You've got thick thighs, and your brain is diseased.
Diseased, you say?
A twister, it is.
Ah, a whirlwind then.
More like a torrent of hate.
Well, I'd imagine one would need thick thighs in such a circumstance; sinewy ones reek of love.
Fuck your thighs.
Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights Reserved
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