Description
Years later, you still cross my mind.
Smart, short hair, busty, and passionate. You'd text me at odd hours asking me to come over, and I often would. I'd walk in and leave my shoes by the front door, locking it behind me. You'd be waiting on your knees, or sometimes on your back. You said I gave you the best... something.
Some memories fade, but not my ones of you. My number is the same, or respond to this and tell me something about what we used to get into together.
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