“Oh Pinocchio! Don’t stop!” she sighs,
His face pressed up between her warm thighs.
In and out slides his nose;
Inch by inch, still it grows!
“Do you love me?”
“Of course, yes,” he lies.
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“Oh Pinocchio! Don’t stop!” she sighs,
His face pressed up between her warm thighs.
In and out slides his nose;
Inch by inch, still it grows!
“Do you love me?”
“Of course, yes,” he lies.