Sweatiest sex session, it’s even filthy in your hair, I assault you with my tongue, you kill me with your stare, even when I’m gone you can still feel me in the air.

Release your inhibitions, it makes the sex greater, paint our arguments out, the best make up, living art ‘til we’re done, we’ll worry about the mess later.

I see you’re waiting to be served like you’re next on the line, problems in your heart, but there’s sex in your climb, let me pick you up & take that stress off your mind.

Chillin’ with my White Widow, spliffing up my zone, she said don’t call her bitch, but you licking up my bone, she threw my jack across the room & screamed “There’s a reason he’s not picking up his phone”, I luh dat.

She’s my twin, she loves the weather when it rains, in her serious pose I can tell she’s fed up with the games, in her submissive pose I can tell she wants to feel the pleasure in her pain.

She’s animated for a quickie, frisky, on my neck there’s cartoon hickies, jumped on my lap quickly, I think someone slipped her a Mickey.

From sentimental touching to fucking in positions pretzel, covering the basics and soaking in the essentials, last night was the jump, here’s a memento.

Inner freak suggested, she said go on, I don’t judge, so I threw on the En Vogue and told her to hold on to your love…

Her public displays of naughtiness are her secretive good, she demonstrated it for me like only her freakiness could, she says she’s no longer ghetto but I caught her keepin’ it hood.

I’m a hurricane my dame, tear you apart in your home, make the love last forever like I dipped your heart in some chrome, sex go like Van Gogh, this is the art of the bone.