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The way he moves, the way he talks. You cannot convince me that there is a being who's more perfect than the perfect creation himself.
Every night before I go to sleep, I imagine the way I subtly fornicate with him, I imagine as I'm close to reaching an orgasm, he let's out a nearly silent "wah". His slender body moving against my hips that so desperately yearns for his body. His athletic body that was designed for tennis. His body against my body.