Shimmy, shimmy ya. Shimmy yeah. Shimmy hey. Honey had the maracas bumping against her hips and ass, hypnotically, while the bass guitar scaled the stairs. My eyes followed the lacquered sheen shining off the bourbon chocolate of her muscled thighs. She danced under the club lights that hung just above the wooden rails leading up […]

via …Rub the Lamp… — malakhai jonezs

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