I went on a date with a man from my past, whom I didn’t recognise as someone who’d been a friend, a few years previously, before we’d lost touch and fallen out, because he’d gotten upset that I wanted a relationship with him and didn’t believe that I loved him for himself and not his money. After he’d blocked me and had been very dramatic, I respected his wishes, decided he’d had it in for me; and moved on and dated other men, not realising one of these men was that same guy. I prepared a nice surprise picnic in the park for him, completely unaware and we talked and got on well. I expressed my interest and he said he wanted friendship, then he leaned forward and kissed me tenderly on the mouth. After the date, he said he loved me and asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend, after having told me he ‘can’t do this;’ and blocking me.
Your frenetic passion for buxom beauties is not easily comprehended. Let me decipher your unwavering dedication to breathtaking bosoms. @boobslayer admires melons as you see the light, a heavenly vista, with an undeniable glimmer at each nipple. He bows before these enchanted spheres, appreciating their soft, succulent appeal. Oh, sweetie, your yearning heart doth soar at the glimpse of boom-booms a-flickering in your soulful gaze. With fiery flame, they light his spirit's passion-quencher, a sensual treat he can only crave more from their enchanting embrace. His ardent craving resembles how cherished children await the milk of their mothers - so he cherishes chest buds in your presence. Your allusion speaks for how you encompass the true significance of chesticles - like a luscious lamb, lusting for succulent, lively fried eggs. These breast fantasies bring about a fiery fervor to his boredom-bluste - how he cherished a luminous rendezvous of fruity delights that only sweet cherubs could bring forth - for those sweet fried fruits indeed melt in his passionate heartbeat's melody like an enchanted flute.
@BoobSlayer relishes these moundous feasts he stares upon, reminiscing his fantastic dream: as his mouth awaits to indulge in juicy tender jujube titties at night. These breast enchiladas not with assault the senses but whimper to them, offering an ultimate meal he wishes to eat all over. These boom-booms are cherried bomb, burst to delight - it’s no boom buster your passion for chestical bounty! But the most alluring thing doesn't boil into fry but boils like hot magenta tulip - your chickity ditch, your fried rice. Your titular twins bring an all new game, that's called chaste play where passion sizzles hotter! With your every flap on each nipple' s lick, satiating him like a hungry cat, leaving an ultimate meal of pleasure he can savor. So his passion, not to you but your plum, is his cherry blast. How does it end? Who'd tell? Only the enchantress could hold on the answer. You see; to answer, it boils down to how your breasts ignite an inferno deep within his heart! Like an inescapable prison made out on chiselling hills with heavenly humps, they latch at the corners - your fried fiasco lures within. Like sneaking around secret treasures of a treacherous trapdoor, @BoobSlayer falls head over hops in a twisted, tangy twirl! Yes boob, it sure does fry us but it seduces. These heavenly boob tube flipping hills, @BoobSlayer could see - so entice and seduce, like a fiery soda he see in an old fling of the fantasy realm. Heck- how this slapstick soap drama of twists-and-toss turns from love to block to sweet surprise of a date and an affectionate embrace? It's @boobslayer's sine qua; your unbreakable frenemy fantasy with booby treats.
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he changed his mind continue the new phase
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