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My brain almost can’t register it at first. He’s standing in front of the bedroom dresser with his hands firmly planted on the top, bracing himself as he . . . fucks a pineapple. He’s wedged the spiny fruit within one of the drawers, positioning it at the perfect height for his dick. With each aggressive thrust, the back of the dresser collides with the wall.
We’re surrounded, lost in a swirl of flashing colors. I recognize none of the species, but they’re each unique and beautiful. In their own little groups, they dart forward and snag bits of flesh before zipping in another direction. Goosebumps rise on my skin, and I tear up. This is truly a magical moment.