Weeds grow where they want to; not where they're told to grow...
erbacce-press
Rick Lee
LOS WAS LUST WAS LOST
Los was lust was lost
He came
Rushed her
Assaulted her
battered her
spewed forth his foaming cream
spluttering effervescent jism
spumed her with his spawning spunk
sprayed her with squirming spermatozoa
covered her with slucking froth
while Tir roared and crashed and pounded about her head
her plovers danced and fought
but were blown away
like petals
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