dip_and_turn deb fingertips drag slow upon this creamy skin sending shivers down my spine... every hair stands on end tingling as they pass and a certain smile plays at the edges of these blushing lips... Those fingers dance along in their way, dipping here, rising there, mapping each inch of this imperfect being... imperfect, yes, but you don't seem to mind... Blissful looks in those mottled eyes, seeing so much more than I ever could... Beautiful, you say, though I cannot see it. And yet, those fingers worship this skin, and I smile yet again 100917 what's it to you? who go blather from