Twas the night before Christmas

… when all through the night
not a penis was stirring,
all locked up quite tight.


Look, she said it, not me – OK readers?  I respect and cherish each and every one of you. But she doesn’t.

 The divine Mistress Eleise.  You might have seen her here once or twice before, I suppose.

You’ll look back with longing at this, come summer, when she’s whipping you up a hot gravel track under the merciless sun.


1.2 seconds of pure bliss.  But, you know, it’s not just Christmas that comes but once – oh, hang on.


I used to suffer from low self-esteem.  But then I just decided to enjoy it instead.
And the divine Divine Mistress Heather, too.


He should pay attention to this blog over the next few days.


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