| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
the horse runs o'er the hill,
like the velvet slinks down her hips,
the horse, his mane flows like
my fingers
through
her head of raven splendor,
i, a stallion
of many years,
a stallion fucking his way
through fear
and into a land
where a horse's legs
move like
me
entering now, her
paradoxical deep