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Wet Cake

Watching you convulse under the tip of my tongue is a sight for sore eyes,
As magical as stars glowing bright amongst love under mistletoes…
Making your toes curl while your mind blows,
Is a feeling that is not replaceable.
My white chocolate,
More than a piece of wet cake as I’m prompted to lick every last drop of your,
Sweet cherry pie,
To embrace a full night of,
Sweet love-making until we can’t go any longer…

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