SUBJECT: Real original
Dear Dark Assholes,
I get the point. Showing me that you know how to log onto a computer and utilize Google must’ve taken some pretty keen strategizing on your part.
Really, really cool trick. Now leave me the hell alone.
-The DL

I'd never been a good damsel in distress. I was a "hands-on" damsel.

No child, no matter what path they may have chosen, should be abandoned by the people who should love them the most. When two people come together and make the conscious decision to create a life, they have an obligation to protect and love that child until death.

I can't live without the sun shining down on my face, and I can't dream without the stars kissing me goodnight.

Holy fuck. Testing, testing. Is this thing on or has Botox already begun to corrode her brain cells?

She'd stutter all the reasons why she shouldn't, shaking her head adamantly. But her body..her body would grow hot with excitement. She'd get wet at the thrill of it. So fucking wet that i'd smell her, telling me she's not even wearing panties to smother her spicy scent.
When my hand touched hers, still clutched to her chest, she'd flinch but she wouldn't pull away. She'd let me guide it between her swollen breasts and down to her flat belly, brushing the bit of exposed skin where the hem of her shirt rides up. Then I'd let her fingers play with the jewel in her navel, manipulating each digit as if that diamond-studded barbell was her clit. Demonstrating how I would stroke it for her.