tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592381921330234720.post6122636609637649911..comments2023-06-08T04:03:04.494-07:00Comments on Foreplay and Fangs: Wednesday Writing Challenge: Writing Under RestrictionsBrantwijnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07198295175498977087noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592381921330234720.post-87544100445035242852014-09-03T13:43:21.999-07:002014-09-03T13:43:21.999-07:00Her blue Old Navy uniform shirt was pushed up to e...Her blue Old Navy uniform shirt was pushed up to expose her breasts as she clutched the plastic anchor above her head as Clarkâs tongue repeatedly drew the number nine between her legs. It was a heck of a thank-you for making him pancakes for breakfast that morning.Unknownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15422890697850506741noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592381921330234720.post-1091630970130993502014-09-03T13:35:53.845-07:002014-09-03T13:35:53.845-07:00Nine bells peeled as the ship dropped anchor. The ...Nine bells peeled as the ship dropped anchor. The navy blue, red and white of the Union Jack flapped in the breeze. I knew a stack of pancakes would be waiting for me, but all I wanted was to bury myself in the warmth of his body. Too many months at sea. I am home.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02002479758120256132noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592381921330234720.post-58918722587099600922014-09-03T10:39:46.390-07:002014-09-03T10:39:46.390-07:00Not sure this is sexy enough ~
She sauntered int...Not sure this is sexy enough ~ <br /><br />She sauntered into his diner, eased her perfect ass onto a stool at the counter, and ordered a short stack of flapjacks. Her navy-blue shorts rode high exposing an anchor tattoo at the top of her thigh. Right then, all he could think about was doing her nine ways from Sunday.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09748063494119693376noreply@blogger.com