She licked my feet but wouldn’t settle.
Her breath stank.
She was irritable. Angry almost.
What’s wrong my wee sweetie?
She wasnt’t talking to me!
Then I saw it.
What was it?
Had I cut my foot.
Surely I would have felt that!
Frieda is on heat.
Droplets of life’s pure force abound.
who will wash my sofa?
Please dont jump on the bed.
Please god steer her clear of unwanted dog cock.
We are both young and have careers to think of.