Limbiido

shit! his facial features are already chafing, heavily weighted by the moroseness that suddenly plagues him — the immediate switch in demeanor is noteworthy, as though prompted by some sleight of hand. what’s the secret word for today, conky?harlequick! — as in run and hide, for here she comes!

                with eyes and ears that of a hawk, the surly predator could always hear the distant rumble of the blonde migraine surfacing from a ten mile radius. he cringes, the sullen fiend, as the blows to his office door ricochet against the ever-thinning walls of his skull. ‘too late’, he quips internally — and his eyes, they bulge, rolling like die on their optic nerves and landing 10/10: a perfect snake eyes on the source of his prematurely swelling agitation. 

oh, but how he’s suddenly beaming at this unparalleled delight—-the beacon of compassion and trust—with a smile… ear to ear, as though grateful for the respite in which he was about to receive. why, hello handsome! what a greeting — sprinkle that in with an all-inclusive, out-of-touch idiom and you’ve got yourself the makings of a decent boy next door!

                ❝ —-only about as busy as a one-armed paperhanger. ❞

                he orbits, skillfully maneuvering around his workbench, laurel hues welded to the booming blonde in a disarming look as though approaching a wounded animal. he steps into place before her, his arms slithering like serpents around a petite waist. kisses scatter with the wind as he unevenly distributes his affection to her jawbone, ending strong with a quick, yet passionate smooch to a pair of expectant lips. mwah!

                ❝ mmmm — well, there’s no better ‘pick-me-up’ than a little midday MSG. although, not to be crude, but it certainly wasn’t the kind of salty seafood i had in mind. ❞

oh, but he certainly means to be crude — and to prove it, to bolster his innuendo, he grins an amorous grin, granting his hands access to each voluptuous curve of her lithe figure. naturally, the parts are a little too thoroughly cooked for his liking, something deserving of internal graveling—- but even the coldest of serial killers have a palate for a certain amount of internal warmth incited by fakes bonds and binds alike!

shit! his facial features are already chafing, heavily weighted by the moroseness that suddenly plagues him — the immediate switch in demeanor is noteworthy, as though prompted by some sleight of hand. what’s the secret word for today, conky?harlequick! — as in run and hide, for here she comes!

                with eyes and ears that of a hawk, the surly predator could always hear the distant rumble of the blonde migraine surfacing from a ten mile radius. he cringes, the sullen fiend, as the blows to his office door ricochet against the ever-thinning walls of his skull. ‘too late’, he quips internally — and his eyes, they bulge, rolling like die on their optic nerves and landing 10/10: a perfect snake eyes on the source of his prematurely swelling agitation. 

oh, but how he’s suddenly beaming at this unparalleled delight—-the beacon of compassion and trust—with a smile… ear to ear, as though grateful for the respite in which he was about to receive. why, hello handsome! what a greeting — sprinkle that in with an all-inclusive, out-of-touch idiom and you’ve got yourself the makings of a decent boy next door!

                ❝ —-only about as busy as a one-armed paperhanger. ❞

                he orbits, skillfully maneuvering around his workbench, laurel hues welded to the booming blonde in a disarming look as though approaching a wounded animal. he steps into place before her, his arms slithering like serpents around a petite waist. kisses scatter with the wind as he unevenly distributes his affection to her jawbone, ending strong with a quick, yet passionate smooch to a pair of expectant lips. mwah!

                ❝ mmmm — well, there’s no better ‘pick-me-up’ than a little midday MSG. although, not to be crude, but it certainly wasn’t the kind of salty seafood i had in mind. ❞

oh, but he certainly means to be crude — and to prove it, to bolster his innuendo, he grins an amorous grin, granting his hands access to each voluptuous curve of her lithe figure. naturally, the parts are a little too thoroughly cooked for his liking, something deserving of internal graveling—- but even the coldest of serial killers have a palate for a certain amount of internal warmth incited by fakes bonds and binds alike!

shit! his facial features are already chafing, heavily weighted by the moroseness that suddenly plagues him — the immediate switch in demeanor is noteworthy, as though prompted by some sleight of hand. what’s the secret word for today, conky?harlequick! — as in run and hide, for here she comes!

                with eyes and ears that of a hawk, the surly predator could always hear the distant rumble of the blonde migraine surfacing from a ten mile radius. he cringes, the sullen fiend, as the blows to his office door ricochet against the ever-thinning walls of his skull. ‘too late’, he quips internally — and his eyes, they bulge, rolling like die on their optic nerves and landing 10/10: a perfect snake eyes on the source of his prematurely swelling agitation. 

oh, but how he’s suddenly beaming at this unparalleled delight—-the beacon of compassion and trust—with a smile… ear to ear, as though grateful for the respite in which he was about to receive. why, hello handsome! what a greeting — sprinkle that in with an all-inclusive, out-of-touch idiom and you’ve got yourself the makings of a decent boy next door!

                ❝ —-only about as busy as a one-armed paperhanger. ❞

                he orbits, skillfully maneuvering around his workbench, laurel hues welded to the booming blonde in a disarming look as though approaching a wounded animal. he steps into place before her, his arms slithering like serpents around a petite waist. kisses scatter with the wind as he unevenly distributes his affection to her jawbone, ending strong with a quick, yet passionate smooch to a pair of expectant lips. mwah!

                ❝ mmmm — well, there’s no better ‘pick-me-up’ than a little midday MSG. although, not to be crude, but it certainly wasn’t the kind of salty seafood i had in mind. ❞

oh, but he certainly means to be crude — and to prove it, to bolster his innuendo, he grins an amorous grin, granting his hands access to each voluptuous curve of her lithe figure. naturally, the parts are a little too thoroughly cooked for his liking, something deserving of internal graveling—- but even the coldest of serial killers have a palate for a certain amount of internal warmth incited by fakes bonds and binds alike!