Seven (bp coyle)

There is something about their little smiles that makes me go ‘ooh’.

And their hands, their feet. The dimples in their cheeks or on their chins. My heart melts. My tummy hurts. Every time I see one I want to pick it up and run away with it. I love dressing and undressing them. Especially the ones with long beards. They get me so hot.

Running away from home was the best thing I ever did. I escaped from my murderous evil Step Mother and that idiotic talking mirror of hers, and I found a lovely little cottage with seven little men to play with. Seven! All for me. They keep me going night and day, I hardly have time to clean the place or bake apple pies. But my little men need lots of food to keep their stamina up.

Thank goodness there are no neighbors to see what goes on here. Or to hear us party all the time. If only that annoying old woman would stop coming around trying to sell me apples. We have our own orchard, so I don’t know why she bothers. Maybe if I buy one tomorrow she will leave us alone.

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