C112 Great thief let me do it too

There is no proper vulgar rhyme, the hill of sexual love. He inadvertently thought of these two lines of poetry. Both of Monica's arms tightly wrapped around her ordinary neck, her breasts pressed against her ordinary chest. Under the stimulation of so many things, her ordinary nose started to bleed unbearably, and what made it worse, were the drops of blood that dripped onto Monica's chest