I'm the admiral of getting you off and I say, [ the black undershirt comes off with the blue and Loki runs a hand up the back of Chris's neck to get a fist in his hair, ] I say, nothing matters beyond the edges of this bed.
[ Maybe the pasta hasn't killed off his sex-drive entirely, kissing Chris with unhurried passion. ]
no subject
[ Maybe the pasta hasn't killed off his sex-drive entirely, kissing Chris with unhurried passion. ]