Well, he was beautifully black. I’ll start with that. But not just black—jet black, dark like the night sky on a July evening when even the moon decides to hide. God, and he was smooth—how to heaven..
Well, he was beautifully black. I’ll start with that. But not just black—jet black, dark like the night sky on a July evening when even the moon decides to hide. God, and he was smooth—how to heaven..
