It is the constant subtle sound of his love and devotion to me. Some girls get diamonds, others rings, others piercings; but my Daddy gives me his bell and it fill my days and night with the music of his heartbeat.

It is the constant subtle sound of his love and devotion to me. Some girls get diamonds, others rings, others piercings; but my Daddy gives me his bell and it fill my days and night with the music of his heartbeat.

puffynipples pullingdownthepanties

I Want My Life Full Of Stories. Those I Make, Those You Make, Those We Collect From Others Along The Way. And When Our Hands And Minds Are Full Of Them, Let Us Curl In Bed Or Under A Great Aged Tree And Share The Secrets Of These Stories. And Let Us

&Amp;Ldquo;I&Amp;Rsquo;M Going To Make You Beautiful, Baby Girl. And Tonight I&Amp;Rsquo;M Going To Do That By Taking Your Virgin Ass. Yes. That Is It. Open Up To Your Daddy. Let Him Know How Much You Love Him.&Amp;Rdquo;

&Amp;Hellip;&Amp;Hellip;&Amp;Hellip;&Amp;Hellip;..I&Amp;Rsquo;M Gonna Go Do My 7Am School Meeting. Cause If I Don&Amp;Rsquo;T Finish And Graduate Soon, I&Amp;Rsquo;M Going To Drop Out Of Everything, Show Up On Your Doorstep With Just My Blanket And Pigtails, And Beg You To Give

Dear Classmates....

Yourdaddysnaughtythings: Sweetheart, What Are You Doing To Daddy’s Pillow? &Amp;Hellip;.. Just What I Would Be Doing To His Face If He Was Here.

Every Time I Am Here In Your Arms, I Know That There Is Nowhere Else I Would Rather Be. This Is My Home. It Is Warm And Bright With Our Dreams. And In It All Things Are Possible.

I Want To Be A Princess...

Sometimes You've Just Got To Scratch....

Rare Flower

Party Person: Looking At Filth And Frills “But Where Are The Frills?”Fine. Here Are Your Frills. Frilly Fairy, With Pixie Dust And All. But If You Really Want To See Where The Filth Is, You Should Ask Her To Tell You What Is In Her Mind.

A Million Things That They Will Never Understand, We Communicate To Each Other With Just One Touch.

&Amp;Ldquo;Me? What Am I Doing? Oh, Nothing Much. Just Waiting Here. Slowly Heating In The Summer Sun. Turning Into Honey. The Kind Which Sticks To Your Tongue And Then Your Soul. I&Amp;Rsquo;Ve Heard The Devil Likes Honey.&Amp;Rdquo;

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