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bill-swift - May 24, 2016
Whatever hope I had of shaking Bella Hadid from my libido, frontal lobe, and tip of my tongue on a constant basis is made that much more difficult by her nearly daily display of heavenly hot looks and exhibitionism like a pro with many more years on her fine female form than her mere nineteen years. After owning Cannes in her slinky revealing hot dress dress, Bella returned stateside to slip into something a little more revealing even than that, showing off in a corset top so low it defied basic physics that her sweet teats remains covered. Not that I didn't flunk physics, but I'm pretty sure of this.
Bella Hadid is simply killing it on the public stage, the only one that matters, at least until I get her onto my private stage. That's not a metaphor, I have a little raised area in my abode for performances. The pole can be removed for classier social occasions or so as not to scare Bella away. Not in that top and those Daisy Dukes. I need you, Bella. As a parched man needs water or my Uncle Fonzi needs to place bets on women's soccer matches. It's a thing I can't shake. I don't want to shake it. But I'll give you my life savings if you shake in front of me soonish. I'm weak. Hurt me happy. Enjoy.
Photo Credit: Splash
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