Leandra Parsons

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“Me too.” I scoot even closer, but I rise and sit on his lap this time. My pajama shorts bunch at my thighs. And then I’m leaning in, placing my lips on his, needing to get to this part of the night. His mouth meets mine, and we open to each other. Tongues swiping, tasting.
Sweet Collide (Saints of Redville)
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