THE LIONS DEN: 07/07/13

Sunday, July 7, 2013

[TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR] A COLLAB WITH SWEETEE IZQUEEN

[TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR] A COLLAB WITH SWEETEE IZQUEEN
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN...
http://youtu.be/zjwLhPHDMQg

SWEETEE
Let me drop my guard, I want some water I this weary land that's so bland/ move to the shower on this hr/ flames of passion burns my lips do nothin but moan/ water hits my hand behind every drop down ur back/ trails of kisses taste wet n delicious/ riseing up/ rushing n gushing, I feel ya pushing/ steam in the air, sweaty n flamboyant n I don't care/ Give me stick/ deep n rich/ hands across my chest/ I bounce back n need no rest/ stroking, jumping, n jerking/ Swim in line/ wiggle this time/ as I drain U out/ Chocolate Passion without a doubt

JERALD
No need to fear for even in my rough I shall be gentle for you... Water washing over the brown of your skin and turning it golden... Your moans and the sound of the drops merging... Flying away as spatters as we make contact... Pull apart and make contact again... On my tongue you are wet... So wet... You arched to meet my thrust... Nipples hardened and erect... Ass clapping as I hear you beg for it... a push into the depths of your womb... Warm and fluidly I cum... Reach down and stroke you as you tremble... Call pon Hamzah... The lion.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY AND SWEETEE IZQUEEN

[CONTINUATION]

[CONTINUATION]
THE MUSIC FOR THIS ONE... DO NOT MISS...
http://youtu.be/Kk5scsTBRFI

And we opened our eyes and cried.
We cried for lost yesterdays and eventual tomorrows.
The sky opened up and cried with us and water ran down ditches into river, lake and sea.
We cried for lost children and buried mothers...
We cried for deadbeat dads who never knew what they missed.
Tears evaporated by the sun... forming fluffy white clouds on sunny days.
Absorbed into the dust under our feet as mud clinging to the soles of tired feet.
Man and woman in these new times struggling to find a way.
Who are we to question the fabric that holds it all together... We humans.
Meanwhile the sun rises in the morning and the moon pulls at the tides that surge.
Rise and fall of the skin as breath is taken in and exhaled.
Such beauty in the totality as birds fly across the sky painted a most vivid blue.
Water fractured and rearranged in prisms that erupt from ducts and run into the wrinkles and fall away as these our tears.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY