“Her blouse lay atop her bosom when they popped up one after the other, like meerkats. Her long hair kissed the top of her ass that was like two buttery brioche rolls ready for dinner. Her turnip red lips parted…”
Police sketch artist: “Sir.”
“Her blouse lay atop her bosom when they popped up one after the other, like meerkats. Her long hair kissed the top of her ass that was like two buttery brioche rolls ready for dinner. Her turnip red lips parted…”
Police sketch artist: “Sir.”
