Dance ’till you can’t dance no more.

Torn up. Worn out. Yesterday’s news.

Popped cherry.

Oops. There it is.

On the sheets.

This dirty, dirty, dirty fun.



The farther she goes, the more she looks back.

And she rubs and she twists and she slaps and she chokes.

Flash a smile. Strike a pose. Snap a picture. You’re bent and dripping and panting and sweaty. Nowhere near beautiful.

But somewhere close sexy.

But not close enough.