She bussed his cheek with her small lips as he stood by the open door, and exited alone towards the sleeping house. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. He kissed her again. But for me it doesn’t matter.
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This video was uploaded to southmsnightout.com on 01-06-2024 18:04:30
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