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“We don’t need to kiss.” I say coyly, morphing the angles of my body to look cute, irresistible. It would be easier if I’d brushed my hair. “Pretend I’m a prostitute.” I instruct, ”They don’t kiss their clients.” It’s a reference I’ve made before, but not
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I tell you that wasn’t even on my mind, but move out of an inverted tree pose and wrap both my legs around you, girlfriend style.
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