And yet, you've read every single post of mine you've come across on this or any number of boards going back, what, nearly 20 years?
Nothing wrong with that. I've probably read most of yours I've come across except the really boring ones where you prattle on and on about boring shit.
Anyway, I give you permission to let your imagination roam free in the depths of the night, whilst your boring old LibMan gently snores beside you and you feel a certain engorgement and an accumulation of viscous womanly moisture down there, in that place that has been dried out this past decade or more.
Feel free, as your spirit mind takes flight, to reach down and gently stimulate your clitoral hood as you envision your dream-Reggie's whiskers gently tickling your inner thighs as he goes in to inspect your most secret of secret places.
Of course, there's no need to point out that the real life Reggie would probably recoil not just from the stench, but the scary nature of the leathery texture of the desiccated meat flaps before him. But hey, it's your fantasy.
