there’s a girl i know who makes me feel like i’ve grown a moustache.
she wears an endless trail of floaty stuff, dangles her strappy slipper from a dainty pink toe and tosses her flouncy haircut every once in awhile so that it sways attractively around her. her sugary voice trills and tinkles with frilly conversation. occasionally, she giggles like an imp. sweeter than hello kitty she is. the kind of fluffy miss that might star in a karan johar valentine’s day movie.
it's impossible to resist the urge to touch your upper lip, just to check.
some women always have this effect.
they walk into a room and make you feel instantly more macho.
yes, i know this seems to work out very well for you, peter.
but let me give you an inside tip, this kind of damsel never says vagina.
just think, this is what sex talk will sound like when you hoochie coochie with her and make all those poochie woochie babies.
yes, i know this seems to work out very well for you, peter.
but let me give you an inside tip, this kind of damsel never says vagina.
just think, this is what sex talk will sound like when you hoochie coochie with her and make all those poochie woochie babies.
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