I had to shove my face down into the nape of her neck to calm myself as when I went too fast I heard the bed creak and didnt need anyone walking in on... this scene. I had to focus hard to keep my moans breathless and quiet but even so every 10 seconds I would be too loud, but thanks to my rapidly approaching orgasm, that would not be a sustained problem. My hand on the headboard spoke was gripping so hard I worried it might break and my penis and Sabrinas ass had begun to sweat, slicking us up. With a cute little sentence fragment.Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor.A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered.An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles heel.The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known.A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned a man with a glass eye named Ralph.The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.A dyslexic walks. The sun was warm under a bright blue sky, but Anji felt a moment's chill. Would this be the last sunlight she would see, her bones left moldering in some lightless cavern? She'd never minded the thought of her body going back to the soil. Born on a farm, her life was but a moment in the circling dance of birth and death, planting and harvesting. She would never give life of her own to that dance. Cast aside as barren by the stout farmer whose third most wife she'd been, she had made her own way. She was a little wild though and I had a hard time dealing with her. This one time, my mom was out of town visiting her sister and Brittany came over to visit and have some beers. It was a hot summer day and we were drinking by the pool and my dad was in his lawn chair, reading the paper under a shady tree nearby.“It’s so nice out, I want to go swimming,” said Brittany stretching luxuriously and looking cute in her sunglasses.“Did you bring your swimsuit?” I asked.“Nope.”“Well I guess you.