Augustine, too, was good in bed, lips and fingers seasoned travelers in the landscape of a lady's legs. His groin ached concave as the sun began to set each Friday. His skin was tinder and her hands—ten matchsticks striking him alight. Each morning, squinting in the sober sunlight,
oh but please not yet
oh but please not yet
oh but please not yet
Augustine, too, was good in bed, lips and fingers seasoned travelers in the landscape of a lady's legs. His groin ached concave as the sun began to set each Friday. His skin was tinder and her hands—ten matchsticks striking him alight. Each morning, squinting in the sober sunlight,