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Ass Like a Bakery, Heart Like a Loaded Gun. She Sat Like Sugar, Asked If I Wanted a Taste

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Ass Like a Bakery, Heart Like a Loaded Gun. She Sat Like Sugar, Asked If I Wanted a Taste

Ass Like a Bakery, Heart Like a Loaded Gun. She Sat Like Sugar, Asked If I Wanted a Taste

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Her motto: “Why bounce, when you can glide?”

She tried to draw cleavage once. The line was straight, and she left it.

She called her chest a “theoretical construct.” I told her some of the best ideas in physics are.

It’s not that she’s flat. It’s just that her curves exist in non-Euclidean space.