Feathered Glory Sweet girlsWith curlsBounceAnd jiggleOn their way,PerchedUpon high heelsLikePeacocks,BrightWith the intensityOf theirTranssexuality. 4... Fruits Your breasts spillFrom the cupsOf your brassiereLike ripe, round fruitsFrom a basket,Perfect globesCappedWith nipplesBegging to be sucked,Perfect contrastsTo your thick,HardCock;Another fruit,Long and cylindricalLike a banana.Whenever I seeMelons and bananasI will think of youAnd howYour breasts spillFrom the cupsOf your brassiereLike. I now sat noticing for the first time the blood and semen running down her meaty thighs. Her thick black pubic hair wrapped around stopping just prior to her rosebud. She cried nonstop now, her vows officially broken. I grabbed my clothes, dressed and left her with one last thought. She was balled up on the couch, having pulled her gown down over her legs she was just laying there, not crying, not speaking, just laying there staring blankly. ?Sister Agnes, as a Christian. More

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