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“We’re extraterrestrial,” I muse as his lips touch my skin. Smoke rings swirl around the room mimicking the sixth planet from the sun. Weightless and whimpering, I close my eyes to spy flashes of light like a universe of glittery trichomes. A sweet and pungent musk fills my lungs. Hints of citrus mingle with my subconscious, triggering fits of sensuous giggles. Everything’s electric. Touch is ecstatic. Kisses are shooting stars. I can’t escape his gravitational pull. I don’t want to, either. Oysters and champagne can’t hold a candle to this sun-grown, organic cannabis … the cosmic key that unlocks libidinous secrets.
In my experience, few things complement each other as well as sex