Prophmatt . . .
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Winter Evenings With Je Ne Sais Quoi
Je' is surprisingly seductive. The way some evenings she turns down the lights while I'm reading, then passes by drawing her painted nails across my shoulders like the slow pull of a slender match the length of granite. And she goes traipsing off leaving hickory smoldering with passion until curiosity impels me to chase after chantilly lace.Read the full of Winter Evenings With Je Ne Sais Quoi