Her mother called her Angel So imagine her surprise When she walked into the party With a black boy by her side She said, "You don't understand me" I
Love to love Angels watching our hideaway You're all mine Here and now and then Love to love To the goddess of dreams I pray Again Skin to skin I can
Pelle liscia scivola sulle ugole di parole e idee. tenditi di piu e piu ancora. ruvida eri e non sarai. squame peli e spine e crini e ventose e tentacoli
Love to love Angels watching our hideaway You're all mine Here and now and then Love to love To the Goddess of dreams I pray Again Skin to skin
Tercüme: Harry Belafonte. Cilt Ciltler.
Tercüme: E-Rotic. Cilt Ciltler.
She does not lazy dance her hands on me She does not talk, no pretty talk She pleasures silently But with her, I am summer I warm easy to her heart She
Mulling over those who determine to consciously live an ironic lifestyle, a little piece of my eye fell off. Then it slowly floated away. Had I not
: She does not lazy dance her hands on me She does not talk, no pretty talk She pleasures silently But with her, I am summer I warm easy to her heart
