A Momentary Lapse Of Season
It’s the flash, flashiest time of the year.
I can normally keep controlled, but mistletoe urges my cock and triggers my urges. It keeps witches away, mistletoe does. They can smell it. Nobody else can smell it, but I can—witches and perverts, and I’m no witch. Mistletoe berries are pearly pearl drops, at least the good kinds are, the ones that look like someone jacked off onto a bush. The red or green berries look like that too by the time I’m done. It scratches, b...