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... tual of Thigh and Tongue, or: How to Worship a Warrior

Deja vu wrapped around us like a scented fog—familiar, thick, and charged with something primal. After our initial kiss, I descended down Kimchi’s sculpted form like a pilgrim at the altar, my mouth offering reverence in the only language it knew: pressure, warmth, and devotion.

Soft gasps escaped her lips, each one a note in a crescendo of sighs. When I reached the sacred juncture between her thighs, I worshipped it like the ...

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