Dancing Trail

The little finger dance, across your burly chest.
Not exactly firm, with a bit of fats.
She walks them down your ribs, right over your heart.

The little trimmed nails cut, leaving marks on your skin.
Not exactly deep, but enough for you to want more of it.
Going down the bouncy tum, hopping over the belly port.

The little prints slide, disturbing your furry pubes.
Not exactly a tickle, it restyled your hairs.
Slithering like many snakes, constricting your lengthy stick.

The little squeezing grips, shifting blood into it.
Not exactly tight, just right for your thoughts.
Shifting up and down, drawing breaths away.

The little speed increase, drives you craving deep.
Not exactly exhilarate, but depraves you of air.
Slurping hungrily, she watches you in grin.

The little rub on the tip, nudges you over the edge.
Not exactly hard, and it releases your pent-up-urge.
Generously coating her hand, a smile satisfy her goals.

The little jerk for the last, drains you of them all.
Not exactly awake, she kept you alive.
The graceful mouth approaches, taking all the cum away.

The little pat on the little him, showed you her love for him.
Not exactly lust, a goodnight kiss ensued.
She cuddles into your arms, for her rewarding crush.

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