virgboy

Dove was wrong, he was wrong. By going north he went south, he believed that wheat was water. He believed that the sea was the sky than the night the morning. That the stars dew, that the heat the snowfall. That your skirt was your blouse, that your heart was home. (She fell asleep on the shore, you on the top of a branch.

Good presence, education and knowing how to be. With you I could share from dinner to a night of wild sex, like you few. I hope to find you soon!