“This isn’t a poem. It’s an alibi.”
Journee doesn’t write erotica. She breathes it into your ears while you forget how to breathe. Thick. Slow. Ruthless. This is more than face-sitting — it’s full-body submission in verse form. Just listen. If you can.
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Recorded in one take. No background track. Just breath, thighs, and a voice that doesn’t ask permission.
This is how Journee teaches you to worship with your mouth full.
