Last Stop Bubbles A Lost Blondie Verse Tale Part Four
I. Retrograde One of our old haunts, a repurposed manufacturing plant, still hums with life on breezy Saturday nights. Used to come here every weekend. Her great escape, a middle finger to her name. Detach from reality and just… exist. Breathe, ya’know? Be straight average for a change. Slip into the other side.She never said it, but I could tell she hated that bitter chaos circling in her head. That suffocating truth of lucky sperm finding lucky egg to create life. Slide out naked and...
Group Sex