Three Minutes Back
October 11, 2006
I came back from the side of the wall.
My legs are for walking, can stand up and say how.
As in a dream, wake up, suddenly. Find himself weeping. Remember in one breath.
And then there's just the spark that turned the key in the picture and everything is focused, like a click in my head that tells you it still works. Perhaps only some probable fault, but those are imbued throughout the journey.
The panic mixed with burning tears. It can even be enjoyable if you think you can, however, recognize. Tell.
can be fierce and sweet, give you more color on the eyes. While those who realize that still exist ...
Life is a breeze.
I caressed the other night, while bouncing between the eyebrows and forehead wrinkles of weariness. She gave me a slap, a hint of a disturbance.
Sometimes stubbornness should allow to rest in a jar of feathers.
Life is also a fairy tale. Plan to be said, maybe twisted, under a blanket.
looked me in the face, a bit 'stiff, and whispered to me' calm down '. It is not enough, I did not want.
Needles changing, vivid, true and too dense than the joke of the night.
What happened?
But I just closed my eyes.
Just a moment, like when I kidnap kisses on the neck and down my spine swarms of racing shells. Enclose chills. Release words. Portend an orgasm.
And now the climax is a crash, as a liberation of shots convoluted, lies on my flesh as infection, I almost ripping the heart from his chest.
yet still beating, the hand painful listen.
And who, besides my hand?
But life is a sister and a whore at the same time, spreading her thighs when you want and you dig the brain, makes you cry or stop breathing. Raises you up, as if I were god. Makes you
stone or gives you wings. And now I pinch
repeatedly, while I think of caresses, kisses, and fingers through his hair, and if I close my eyes I will stop my breath, my nipples hurt like when it is very cold and there's hot hand that can alleviate the pain. Pinch me and I remain silent. To absorb my vulnerability as a child, girl, woman.
I summarize in a purple page.
As I walk, with quiet, narrow streets of thoughts and shudder, and I need riaddensarmi.
still keep a hand up to eye I'll wave.
("one always comes back to the old places where he loved life")
Chavela Vargas
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Nissan Xtrail Roof Rack
apnea
E 'there are moments that really strange. Of those
you think about life, and it makes you bite it.
Because there are those times when you want that fucking all slide slowly down his throat, taking care of the folds of the palate, exorcising unpleasant tastes.
There are moments where lots more where you feel what you feel terribly weak and it hurts, christ, it really hurts, and leaves you inadvertently confused, bewildered, stupid, you'd only be confined in an institution for failure d ' discernment.
But instead you mean all right, shit, you mean and want. Holy shit what you want.
And then come back in ten times when you swim and you seem to go in the opposite direction, a current that drags down, the kind that if you exceed the surface in the opposite direction, then it's your cock, or cracks or learn to breathe in absence of air.
Moments when you seem to remain in apnea for an indefinite time, you could be God and to challenge the impossible without tricks, without compromise. Eating of hell and complications.
But then, 'hey, what the fuck do you do', you say, and while, go, so go to the max, push up that fucking throttle, her thighs wide, while the man you want, next to you, you wild and masturbates You close my eyes on the road waving, and he sniffs the panties that show you a few moments before, on the street, making him imagine your smell, your flesh.
And the road that looks like a wall where you fight against them has a specific color, or is a liquid path, where even if you lower eyelids are still perfectly fluid and compact, light fire ice shadows hands mouths heart drum beats that matter what, what not, everything seems so real that he decided to turn almost in a dream.
While he touches you, thrusting two fingers in, the blood runs stronger, asks her out, he wants to take away his breath as his mouth which is now over and whispers that he wants to fuck you, and the next moment, who loves you.
'Look into my eyes, I do not care if you are driving a saw, look at me'.
me still hurts.
And then I will be immortal after any crash. Inevitable.
There are secrets that is impossible to maintain, even just for the sake of trying to do, then you feel like giving you, for who you are, for what you feel, and the curse that has power, capacitance and still dream of being able to sink the night in a dense ball of eyes, crooked, but you really look at what is real and Christ, that we almost feel my head come from the hole .
And it feels like eclipses, wrapped in warm shades that only put at ease, and the light is all that is said without words, hanks of sensation soups soul worse than a tissue eaten by a downpour.
'Ficcami two fingers in his mouth, masturbala, watching you as if to push him to get in my throat, let this pain that goes down and takes my belly and makes knot in the stomach, enters the ear whispering, including anxiety and nonsense illogical '
There are moments when everything seems to peace. And fairy tales, too. Other
in which the peace you just forget and you feel like an animal in pain.
It takes so little to destroy and rebuild, not to say that it's time to believe in nothing. Do not let themselves be affected by dyslexia of professionalism of nothing, breathing survivals. Wind
to merge into a single point in the brain, air flows to decline, irises wide open and then silenced, rivers of clear.
I look at the bruising on my arm that I have, I think the subtle displeasure when will disappear, but under the skin, there remains the vehemence and the delicacy of your finger, swallow and I am. Still apnea.
What a moment that. Of those who burn and when you close your eyes to stop there is. And perhaps it goes so fast you do not know whether to laugh or cry, and go and do not notice, so to hear a languor believing that it is hungry, and you got really hungry for lunch, but suggest that you do not know The reality now is that the snack, four hours to make love and cares of the world out there. Moments when you do not even know what it means to the boredom. Moments of flesh, lost fingers in every corner of us, and without blood, so much that he wanted the entire cost of all quanta.A.
Maybe she smiled and changed his tone, call me 'bitch' and my echo bouncing on your face looks pleased. Here's what you are.
Soaked to those reactions that I like damn, so that is a delusion to have you on, start him inside not to give vent to time to heal from their compressions.
you hear me ask 'excuse', knowing that I will not.
And we try, more and more heavily. With my amazement the power of your sweetness. These contrasts
you, I have.
Games initiation, simply unbuttoning his shirt, leaving me for an hour non-stop from harassing your fingers before urlarti in the mouth, be together with your hands on the neck to push the cock and its twentieth erection. Switch between tongue and lips, sucking the same time, right when I get pity and I I'm not saving.
are moments in the offenses are not to burn. Times when we just talk and talk about it.
And then there are times when it's time to be silent.
To then say all the missed words, under the sheets, and nothing but hot wax on the chapel, we talk face to face, insulting and shouting under the loud music and soft lighting, a kitchen knife on the table, emotions and pure life, for no reason and be right.
Just breathtaking.
And then if the weather is too fast and nailed to the wall of the walls of our meat is difficult to precisely, let him fuck even so, the cyclone of his unstoppable.
Meanwhile, let us here, including feathers and cash equivalents prostheses and skies.
the suggestion of a dream, nell'arrendevolezza of abandonment.
here, still here. In the fragment of an eternal time.
E 'there are moments that really strange. Of those
you think about life, and it makes you bite it.
Because there are those times when you want that fucking all slide slowly down his throat, taking care of the folds of the palate, exorcising unpleasant tastes.
There are moments where lots more where you feel what you feel terribly weak and it hurts, christ, it really hurts, and leaves you inadvertently confused, bewildered, stupid, you'd only be confined in an institution for failure d ' discernment.
But instead you mean all right, shit, you mean and want. Holy shit what you want.
And then come back in ten times when you swim and you seem to go in the opposite direction, a current that drags down, the kind that if you exceed the surface in the opposite direction, then it's your cock, or cracks or learn to breathe in absence of air.
Moments when you seem to remain in apnea for an indefinite time, you could be God and to challenge the impossible without tricks, without compromise. Eating of hell and complications.
But then, 'hey, what the fuck do you do', you say, and while, go, so go to the max, push up that fucking throttle, her thighs wide, while the man you want, next to you, you wild and masturbates You close my eyes on the road waving, and he sniffs the panties that show you a few moments before, on the street, making him imagine your smell, your flesh.
And the road that looks like a wall where you fight against them has a specific color, or is a liquid path, where even if you lower eyelids are still perfectly fluid and compact, light fire ice shadows hands mouths heart drum beats that matter what, what not, everything seems so real that he decided to turn almost in a dream.
While he touches you, thrusting two fingers in, the blood runs stronger, asks her out, he wants to take away his breath as his mouth which is now over and whispers that he wants to fuck you, and the next moment, who loves you.
'Look into my eyes, I do not care if you are driving a saw, look at me'.
me still hurts.
And then I will be immortal after any crash. Inevitable.
There are secrets that is impossible to maintain, even just for the sake of trying to do, then you feel like giving you, for who you are, for what you feel, and the curse that has power, capacitance and still dream of being able to sink the night in a dense ball of eyes, crooked, but you really look at what is real and Christ, that we almost feel my head come from the hole .
And it feels like eclipses, wrapped in warm shades that only put at ease, and the light is all that is said without words, hanks of sensation soups soul worse than a tissue eaten by a downpour.
'Ficcami two fingers in his mouth, masturbala, watching you as if to push him to get in my throat, let this pain that goes down and takes my belly and makes knot in the stomach, enters the ear whispering, including anxiety and nonsense illogical '
There are moments when everything seems to peace. And fairy tales, too. Other
in which the peace you just forget and you feel like an animal in pain.
It takes so little to destroy and rebuild, not to say that it's time to believe in nothing. Do not let themselves be affected by dyslexia of professionalism of nothing, breathing survivals. Wind
to merge into a single point in the brain, air flows to decline, irises wide open and then silenced, rivers of clear.
I look at the bruising on my arm that I have, I think the subtle displeasure when will disappear, but under the skin, there remains the vehemence and the delicacy of your finger, swallow and I am. Still apnea.
What a moment that. Of those who burn and when you close your eyes to stop there is. And perhaps it goes so fast you do not know whether to laugh or cry, and go and do not notice, so to hear a languor believing that it is hungry, and you got really hungry for lunch, but suggest that you do not know The reality now is that the snack, four hours to make love and cares of the world out there. Moments when you do not even know what it means to the boredom. Moments of flesh, lost fingers in every corner of us, and without blood, so much that he wanted the entire cost of all quanta.A.
Maybe she smiled and changed his tone, call me 'bitch' and my echo bouncing on your face looks pleased. Here's what you are.
Soaked to those reactions that I like damn, so that is a delusion to have you on, start him inside not to give vent to time to heal from their compressions.
you hear me ask 'excuse', knowing that I will not.
And we try, more and more heavily. With my amazement the power of your sweetness. These contrasts
you, I have.
Games initiation, simply unbuttoning his shirt, leaving me for an hour non-stop from harassing your fingers before urlarti in the mouth, be together with your hands on the neck to push the cock and its twentieth erection. Switch between tongue and lips, sucking the same time, right when I get pity and I I'm not saving.
are moments in the offenses are not to burn. Times when we just talk and talk about it.
And then there are times when it's time to be silent.
To then say all the missed words, under the sheets, and nothing but hot wax on the chapel, we talk face to face, insulting and shouting under the loud music and soft lighting, a kitchen knife on the table, emotions and pure life, for no reason and be right.
Just breathtaking.
And then if the weather is too fast and nailed to the wall of the walls of our meat is difficult to precisely, let him fuck even so, the cyclone of his unstoppable.
Meanwhile, let us here, including feathers and cash equivalents prostheses and skies.
the suggestion of a dream, nell'arrendevolezza of abandonment.
here, still here. In the fragment of an eternal time.
How Much Does A Wedding Cost In Gatl
I had imagined.
The cracking of the skin under the eyes. The smell of meat covered with lids.
I had estimated.
the passing of a word from ear to ear. Its eco edge.
I had considered.
The power of the non-premeditated. The pride of surprise.
I had feared. The liquidity of the cavities
dense mix to tears. The persistence of excess. The mastery of tone.
I had enjoyed. Me as sin. Bella. And the wine that looks like me ... to be bribed. Maybe in a meal also.
Not yet.
Now that I have only three minutes.
Now that I have just three breaths.
to tell you.
Luce founded in the room.
'sssss blindfolded and then decide ... I want you'
purple walls set fire to the reflections of the bed. The sheets seem rough to the eye, reminiscent of the one small window of the tent canvas. There is nothing, except for a tiny refrigerator, a pitcher in that bed in a corner and center of the room. And warm blood mixed with mirrors on the walls. It 'a mirror to the ceiling. The
approaches, the dress is long, black, seems to give up breast all'irruenza clearly adhering to the skin, becoming rather arrogant fluidity in the bottom, saying a gap which can outline the red lace thong. Above anything, the dress does not allow it, holds the neck in a strip of cloth, but what gives the breast subtracts the back, left bare, almost like an invitation ...
wood under your feet accentuates the perception.
Barefoot. Altera. fragile. Fair.
Female. Child.
She whispers
'.. three minutes'
As he bent and feet, tearing one end rests on the neck portion of the dress.
'OK, three minutes'
The distance between them is the millimeter, no more words needed, as they are not served before, during the journey by car or on that note found under the door, black paper with no words, just a scratch caused, enhanced by the contrast in color due to the effect of the nail on the paper.
Eyes.
You stare. Mingle. It is stunning. Injected into.
three minutes.
While he did not leave the two ends of the fabric, which is now to join the neck, gripping her throat.
irises. A
not absent. To join. To accumulate. Pupils
dense. Heavy. A dilated. Looks
mixed with horns mixed with pain mixed with pleasure.
Meanwhile, the fabric colors them red cheeks, swells the veins, does open her mouth, the breath shorten.
three minutes. To exacerbate the time. Space.
only three minutes. In order not to distort, not to survive, to not defend themselves. Only three minutes ...
To stretch the endurance to the extreme of saying.
to enjoy that last breath as unique and unrepeatable. To feed the crash.
Three minutes only. To make
arrhythmic pulse swing contrasts.
three minutes.
completed. Coincidence
pressure. On the throat and eyes, the moment before his hands leave the strip of cloth and rescue the weight of her body, collapsed by avoiding the drop to the ground.
'Three minutes ... You've been good '
' Hell is here? '
'Now take breath, you'll need'
Meanwhile, covers his eyes.
run a finger on his lips, it upsets the bright red robe hook unbuttoning the back of the neck, it bites into the corresponding point in the throat, yet obviously livid, almost purple, biting the flesh strong, arming reaction in his hands, and as claws hour mark the ends of the shoulders.
She shudders, and the dress slipped down, reaching life, revealing her breasts, wincing for a moment, aware that blood requires more blood, responsive to those teeth reciprocates the gesture displaying impulsivity, animating chills.
With a gesture, he blocks it.
'Turn around. I want to smell you. Wet your bare back '
perceptions of it is worse, except the sense of sight, hearing and smell are much more pronounced and shared the game is not bad, it allows ease and abandon, instigates excitement.
control is left for now. Be left to drain. How greedy of fluidity.
urban rivers.
joining the sinking that the gesture of attorney.
Suddenly another temperature contrast makes arching his back, a cold stream merged hypothetical line of the spine from its peak fitting an ice cube, pressed strongly, supported at that point, anesthetizing, emphasizing discomfort, pain . Replaced soon after by the warmth of a red decanted ground in a corner of the room.
seems to burn. And the feeling becomes real to the touch of a finger point that identity, to make the groove by forcing the nail, to accentuate the depth with the addition of saliva.
He follows the line with the language.
She sniffs the air as the ice is mixed with wine hours are wedged between the fabric of the garment and the split of the lower back.
'Place your hand on the bed and lifted her dress. So he spreads his legs, I want to see good ass'
She does not move. It seems challenging. Her smile, like a smirk.
'are not permitted to hesitate. Biting a lip, hard. And while you do lie close to the edge of the bed and show ass'
'You really think that my hesitation is?' incisive her.
While the powerfully biting lip, pull your hands on your hips, gathers the ends of the dress, lifting it up, red lace draws the eye like a flash film, the contrast with the black cloth and the pallor of the flesh , it brings out the work, would be almost another fire call, directing it from the womb to the brain and vice versa, while her breasts dangling over those unusual sheets, which can now confirm that roughness.
'Stay well, do not move. Not saying a word. '
The light seems to see a move before his eyes blindfolded, perhaps a candle flame, yes, light a candle, he feels the heat, close the eyes, mouth, neck, spacing out the breath of him, very close, pressing, hot. The nostrils to dig your hands to draw. Without ever even touch.
Blind.
'How has it been? It hurts the neck '
Blind.
time is lost in the echo of the shadows, in silence, violent, marked immobility.
E 'likely within an hour or all night, all seems limitless, a ritual that challenges its own dogma, becoming. informal basis.
Questions flood the brain, chest to make it answers, while the mouth and begin to knead all'arsura fatigue, body weakness to that the position requires, and the mind intoxication of the moment, the sheets of slimy saliva to fall in drops from exhaustion.
'It's been three hours. You did not move. You've been good '
She feels new approach, with a finger to collect a drop of saliva that impregnating the cloth, wipe the lip, deforming the mouth, bringing it in, forcing the passage, making space with insistence.
Then, lifting his chin with the other hand, nailing a tear about the same with his.
'We will rest a little tray in the space that surround your hands. You should not even move. Will be able to reciprocate, if forces you allow.
But now I want you to hit the lip again, same place as before. Foul '.
She does not ask. Runs. Anticipating when it will make favors.
lip bleeds.
'Well, now I want you down with his mouth and go to touch the surface of the tray'
There is a kind of complicity, gestures, in silence, in solicitations.
Without having to prove that neither of them of being weak shots to concentrate on the weaknesses of others.
Without any obvious sequence foreshadows.
She is preparing to lower his head and synchronic lips to rest on the tray, hand him a memorandum, holding it ... stiffness. The reaction of the wound on the lip, with salt, is devastating. Your hands are shaking a fist, elbow resembling hemp, throat swallowing nails. But it is only a first step.
With the other hand he lowers her thong, inserting three fingers at that moment in sex, starting to move without pleasantries.
Her body reacts with a jolt, while that little drops of sweat on his back scatter paths.
'Burn salt, baby? Burn more salt on the mouth or my fingers in your pussy? '
' Or, this pat ... 'continues the other hand by the hair to the cheek.
Meanwhile, the position starts to become a nightmare, stretched on the edge of a razor, tremble, but does not lower the ass. Poised between primary greed.
E 'fertile ground, they agree? I am simply impregnating. Laying the seeds. Fertilization. So that they can grow.
I'm sipping the flavors or taking them, all at once. Who cares? If I run the instinct and let him settle. Now I know that I like to feel that way.
Stanca. Exhausted. Full.
they want to fill the position even while your mouth makes your slavery and freedom. Now that I smelled
micromillimeter your curiosity, aided by the silence, and not liabilities, now that will be able to recover from this small sample. Now imagine that your eye. and enjoy.
Now I want to break through the brain. Leave you trust.
's just a first step.
three minutes.
only three minutes.
Not to overlook details.
again three minutes. To watch
e. Two more minutes ...
To be able to tell.
**************************************
(" Three minutes just three minutes to talk to me
Three minutes just three minutes to convince you to trust me
I have two more minutes but two minutes
do not waste due to never lie to you ")
Negramaro
Dress For Bronze Shoes
Onda
support on your ass seat tired of a swing. God knows I've wanted to push myself, maybe I do I do first some 'swing and then swing insistently, who knows that even the air Stun eventually cut my throat. And understand that should not stop me how to breathe. Fucking air. Fucking mouth that breathes.
With this mouth now that arched his head back worse than a child curious about the empty, we play. Game to take more than I can, until my cheeks swell so much to come out in a clown faces in abstinence colors. What kind of shape does the void? And what flavor? Passes a man, invisible, m'imbocca. Air balls. Again. I'm not lazy but which are in the race to the sky and he knows ... fly.
With his cursed blade, slashing wings alchemy.
And it's as if I roll in bed, trying to find the position, but I'm still swing and he pushes me again. And I push again.
I let fly. I let myself.
And, while you put in shiny purple clouds, uploading their best gun, a bullet only, and just forward, lead magic all together, to swallow pale.
I asked for a one-way ticket on this trip-swing, maybe coming across the world. 'I love the freedom to feel that everything inside. That magical feeling that anything can happen suddenly '.
still waving in the air and metal, microattimo a look in the eyes of the invisible man, as I see them, we would have to ask ...
Rather than see them say that. Them 'feel'.
And now I wish I had nails like claws and tore off the wrapper of me. Swallow liters euphoria and find myself, instinctively, before you.
As soon as I say to the king of blue to eliminate the traffic lights.
('And I'd like a front end that freedom. A deadly crash that desecrates the sacred of his power. Why be alone in this carnal soul possess').
support on your ass seat tired of a swing. God knows I've wanted to push myself, maybe I do I do first some 'swing and then swing insistently, who knows that even the air Stun eventually cut my throat. And understand that should not stop me how to breathe. Fucking air. Fucking mouth that breathes.
With this mouth now that arched his head back worse than a child curious about the empty, we play. Game to take more than I can, until my cheeks swell so much to come out in a clown faces in abstinence colors. What kind of shape does the void? And what flavor? Passes a man, invisible, m'imbocca. Air balls. Again. I'm not lazy but which are in the race to the sky and he knows ... fly.
With his cursed blade, slashing wings alchemy.
And it's as if I roll in bed, trying to find the position, but I'm still swing and he pushes me again. And I push again.
I let fly. I let myself.
And, while you put in shiny purple clouds, uploading their best gun, a bullet only, and just forward, lead magic all together, to swallow pale.
I asked for a one-way ticket on this trip-swing, maybe coming across the world. 'I love the freedom to feel that everything inside. That magical feeling that anything can happen suddenly '.
still waving in the air and metal, microattimo a look in the eyes of the invisible man, as I see them, we would have to ask ...
Rather than see them say that. Them 'feel'.
And now I wish I had nails like claws and tore off the wrapper of me. Swallow liters euphoria and find myself, instinctively, before you.
As soon as I say to the king of blue to eliminate the traffic lights.
('And I'd like a front end that freedom. A deadly crash that desecrates the sacred of his power. Why be alone in this carnal soul possess').
Can You Use Anbesol While Pregnant?
Knut
Night parturient lit at night undone seductive villainous accomplice of a black vortex Ballam him without giving me an ancient truce home of the vocal cords lost in the wind tunnel breath greedy heart of a blue rose with thorns that scratched my forehead that I have no fear that the meat without a traffic jam of red blood
violent indecent thoughts are lost in the raw here on my Hair is here to swallow them one by one to fill my mouth for not more than one word if not groans of ecstasy to impregnate a pearl of steel on the language that confuses me the hormones they chew them shoot over the limit on a white wall quartz. Orgasm clear liquid that takes shape and size of meat that enters stabs expands making love with my brain rape angry hungry greedy charm the very first sunrise I long before your mouth remain open because it is too dry because it is too wet. Animal desires directing the vagina to absorb the mind losing consciousness I'm in the depths of my cracks sniff cibandomi limbo for eternity because I'm fine if you only overflow if I try to turn around and crashed into thick neck because the eternal is also a moment kissed sodomized dazed confused because it is salt on open wound. feels. that. is. alive. Romantic
violence and a moon that becomes queen of the night to dazzle a shrewd eclipse lowered eyelids relax the body and offered up a tray of silver powder bollente.non.mi.accontento contrast of a red wax. I'm here. Still here. hushed a room full of echoes that devours my purple nail polish back the hand nailing this crazy journey wrists entries become. A. Hot. Biting. I want it I want to live in the flesh m'istiga head shakes my gola.non.mi.accontento.vorrei drink even more than that of white over that red is more than just a drop a drop you slipped under the skin under the tongue red cannibal
injected inside I simply decided that now is because I'm not going to crush right now.
Now that I have a sip of air. Hot breath to tell you.
Night parturient lit at night undone seductive villainous accomplice of a black vortex Ballam him without giving me an ancient truce home of the vocal cords lost in the wind tunnel breath greedy heart of a blue rose with thorns that scratched my forehead that I have no fear that the meat without a traffic jam of red blood
violent indecent thoughts are lost in the raw here on my Hair is here to swallow them one by one to fill my mouth for not more than one word if not groans of ecstasy to impregnate a pearl of steel on the language that confuses me the hormones they chew them shoot over the limit on a white wall quartz. Orgasm clear liquid that takes shape and size of meat that enters stabs expands making love with my brain rape angry hungry greedy charm the very first sunrise I long before your mouth remain open because it is too dry because it is too wet. Animal desires directing the vagina to absorb the mind losing consciousness I'm in the depths of my cracks sniff cibandomi limbo for eternity because I'm fine if you only overflow if I try to turn around and crashed into thick neck because the eternal is also a moment kissed sodomized dazed confused because it is salt on open wound. feels. that. is. alive. Romantic
violence and a moon that becomes queen of the night to dazzle a shrewd eclipse lowered eyelids relax the body and offered up a tray of silver powder bollente.non.mi.accontento contrast of a red wax. I'm here. Still here. hushed a room full of echoes that devours my purple nail polish back the hand nailing this crazy journey wrists entries become. A. Hot. Biting. I want it I want to live in the flesh m'istiga head shakes my gola.non.mi.accontento.vorrei drink even more than that of white over that red is more than just a drop a drop you slipped under the skin under the tongue red cannibal
injected inside I simply decided that now is because I'm not going to crush right now.
Now that I have a sip of air. Hot breath to tell you.
Broken Capillaries Stomach Pregnant
Twilight Solidao
'Sometimes the sadness does not taste of sadness, a feeling that can feed on hope, vivid sensations of color, that warm the heart wide open unexpected horizons'
******************************************* **
Lorenzo left the bar smelling of coffee.
barely had time to cross the road a dog barked, he asked an old man begging a girl smiled at him and giving him a viola. His
quickly capsized. Become soft in his footsteps.
There are no roads at times so confusing the linear view, but other impervious damn sharp. Simply roads. In * freedom * of their being.
sounds, amplified, grumpy, to muffle noise even open spaces, Lorenzo touched a leaf with his hand and smiled, vulnerable and eager to too much light.
I wonder if he ever imagined that one day all would have stopped to smell the asphalt, the time to realize that, in some fragments of life, it stops all right and that something tighten in his hands can be a wonderful time and the same cruel. He shook the pain and joy at that moment of not amnesia. Angela
that day he decided not to go to work. Much easier said than done but, sometimes, instinct, power of attorney keys doors bizarre.
due notice, the importance of consequences in each case, heaved a sigh of relief just lowered the telephone receiver. He slipped running
a T-shirt and jeans, a trace of makeup and the Walkman in the pocket, he pulled the door behind him, becoming thrill. Nicola
passing the newsstand, bought a magazine, going after the small bar near my house for breakfast.
'Hello Beppe, throws like today?'
'Hey baby, finally the sun will do the trick! The usual, baby? '
'Yes, but without haste, now I enjoy it and go easy with the heavy foam that takes me drunk'
's funny how sometimes the same frequencies to slow down or you schiantino bodied knowledge, different only by place of occurrence.
Angela buried his face into the cup multicolored and when a drop of hot milk to the scratched his nose, smiled at the boy who stood before him, dipped his hands and mouth in a chocolate croissant, aware of the face drawn on her face, while the mother of stunning rebukes. They looked
accomplices, as in a game of their own, pulling the plug for a moment of sound, becoming silent, full enjoyment without conditions. Angela
winked at him and the child waved a sign of complacency and, wiping his nose in the cuff of the shirt between her cheeks and squeeze out chocolate fabric.
good day starts in the morning, so she thought, tapping your feet to the rhythm of music.
'Hello Beppe, tomorrow. Take care, you're good ... '
' Angels, you know that I have eyes only for you! '
Angela went out, lit by an animated smile.
The morning was warm and photographed daily, turned in his moist with the hustle and bustle, all seemed to have need to make, monsters in tachycardia,'s crazy robot short. Yet everything had its charm, perhaps when you are ready to enjoy the day everything looks different, or simply in a better light. Meanwhile Lorenzo
shortened distances, discussing the phone.
'But no, I told you, is not a problem and I have done, I have no particular commitments tomorrow, I just decided to delay, that's all. An unexpected can happen to anyone, now I feel I am to break the balls to fucking appointment, then, that, not even stand it. And I do not care if it knows that fruit, if I want to do if you promised heaven and earth ... Today there are none, communicate it to Erica, tell her that I move the appointments. Hello '
Intent each in their anxiety not standing there with the identical fragment of the road, slammed into each other.
fell from the hand of Lorenzo the phone and the Walkman line of Angela caught on the button of his jacket, removing the headset from one ear. It also tore the button.
'Oh sorry, I was distracted, wait, wait ... so you break it, do not pull the button, wait! '
'Hell, but you're still snoring or something?! To think that the road is wide ... Yes, yes, observant, so I break it, but you see ...! '
The wire is extricated and Lorenzo bent to pick up the phone.
'What do you listen?'
'Evora'
'I love Miss Morna ... Congratulations, good taste'
'Mmm ... you really like? The fact is that this morning I decided to skip school and travel a bit 'to the island of Cape Verde ..'
'Hehe, yeah, not a bad goal, too, this morning I twisted paths I could take you ... I am fascinated by the sensuality and passion of the 'African fado' ...
You too languid and melancholy? The contagion of sad beauty in place ocean ... '
' Mavala! Rather ... I'm beautiful accent that thou hast. I'm going to the park, if you ask me to sew the button I'll accompany me '
' Oh, nice of you, miss, but the fact is that today are taking place a series of random odd and you, willingly or unwillingly, you could not stop me anyway '
fixed. Reciprocating
fate in the background. Without moving
sniff. Stopping the moment as a criminal s'inchioda with satisfaction to the wall. Or as in saliva throat for half a mouthful too far.
There was a smell of the air caress. There was a breeze to move intent on Angela's hair, slightly, and his shirt a bit 'fluffy, a bit' detached.
She handed him one of the ear, he turned off the phone to the ear and food that twilight.
A love story can also be born that way. Among those who lose their glow and breathe taking density, while the coincidence of time weaving improvisation and movement of a hand can reveal cent.
Lorenzo Angela brushed her hair, as a gesture of unconditional love. Instinctively, he kissed her, capturing awe and reflection. They like being sucked by a hungry nervous and relaxed. Them as unprepared. To exchange pieces of the puzzle in a March morning.
"The beginning of a passion for music has in itself" was how Angela
struck by lightning which nullified all about not letting him.
was so with Lorenzo found herself with her hands in her hair, horns and emotion to shake.
began to listen to and sharing an intimacy made by an unknown spell, he hoped to lull the world.
Speaking accompanied the end of the day. Imperceptible on the border of the lawn and words.
Smell of clothing impregnated with them.
kissed again, without asking questions. Imperceptible waves dancing to the tune of the lips and eyes. In a strange moment that unites pallor. As the evening stuck between veins reddish thickening.
"In the green, creating a bizarre vision hoped"
also turns off the Walkman, no music except that of their breaths. Smell of grass in his mouth and that taste hot.
would not make sense exaggerated words in recounting the minutiae of how you get to skip every stage of courtship and how to elude savoir-faire, a love story also travels up lists of alchemical, expanded or restricted in the moment that the distinctive, full of a feeling that a few explanations and many ways.
Naked Lunch offered on the ports that will contain it.
Lorenzo approached her lips to his neck shook hands at that time. It clamps meat and currents, leaving the teeth outline veins. Angela is not back, stamped in a corner of the sky not distracted his head, defying the darkness as the only witness to the path generated from those lips. Going intersect mouths. They made love in the sunset and late to finish. They shared tremors and eye wide open, ready to caress the eyes, each other, stretched over sharp irises. Curvy and soft. Apparent sharp decline in amnesia.
'Where You jump out'
'Not that which has no memory. I could get the same question '.
again changed color the air. It was found
in a brown voracious announced that sunset that would not die.
Give the light of day to night was equal to that incoming breath caught in my throat.
up her smile in multiple holding out a hand and he made valuable incite.
She kissed him and he knew he kisses.
She kissed him. In a sharp tick sunset. There was an accomplice charges
moons, ready to share if he had wanted.
'Sometimes the sadness does not taste of sadness, a feeling that can feed on hope, vivid sensations of color, that warm the heart wide open unexpected horizons'
******************************************* **
Lorenzo left the bar smelling of coffee.
barely had time to cross the road a dog barked, he asked an old man begging a girl smiled at him and giving him a viola. His
quickly capsized. Become soft in his footsteps.
There are no roads at times so confusing the linear view, but other impervious damn sharp. Simply roads. In * freedom * of their being.
sounds, amplified, grumpy, to muffle noise even open spaces, Lorenzo touched a leaf with his hand and smiled, vulnerable and eager to too much light.
I wonder if he ever imagined that one day all would have stopped to smell the asphalt, the time to realize that, in some fragments of life, it stops all right and that something tighten in his hands can be a wonderful time and the same cruel. He shook the pain and joy at that moment of not amnesia. Angela
that day he decided not to go to work. Much easier said than done but, sometimes, instinct, power of attorney keys doors bizarre.
due notice, the importance of consequences in each case, heaved a sigh of relief just lowered the telephone receiver. He slipped running
a T-shirt and jeans, a trace of makeup and the Walkman in the pocket, he pulled the door behind him, becoming thrill. Nicola
passing the newsstand, bought a magazine, going after the small bar near my house for breakfast.
'Hello Beppe, throws like today?'
'Hey baby, finally the sun will do the trick! The usual, baby? '
'Yes, but without haste, now I enjoy it and go easy with the heavy foam that takes me drunk'
's funny how sometimes the same frequencies to slow down or you schiantino bodied knowledge, different only by place of occurrence.
Angela buried his face into the cup multicolored and when a drop of hot milk to the scratched his nose, smiled at the boy who stood before him, dipped his hands and mouth in a chocolate croissant, aware of the face drawn on her face, while the mother of stunning rebukes. They looked
accomplices, as in a game of their own, pulling the plug for a moment of sound, becoming silent, full enjoyment without conditions. Angela
winked at him and the child waved a sign of complacency and, wiping his nose in the cuff of the shirt between her cheeks and squeeze out chocolate fabric.
good day starts in the morning, so she thought, tapping your feet to the rhythm of music.
'Hello Beppe, tomorrow. Take care, you're good ... '
' Angels, you know that I have eyes only for you! '
Angela went out, lit by an animated smile.
The morning was warm and photographed daily, turned in his moist with the hustle and bustle, all seemed to have need to make, monsters in tachycardia,'s crazy robot short. Yet everything had its charm, perhaps when you are ready to enjoy the day everything looks different, or simply in a better light. Meanwhile Lorenzo
shortened distances, discussing the phone.
'But no, I told you, is not a problem and I have done, I have no particular commitments tomorrow, I just decided to delay, that's all. An unexpected can happen to anyone, now I feel I am to break the balls to fucking appointment, then, that, not even stand it. And I do not care if it knows that fruit, if I want to do if you promised heaven and earth ... Today there are none, communicate it to Erica, tell her that I move the appointments. Hello '
Intent each in their anxiety not standing there with the identical fragment of the road, slammed into each other.
fell from the hand of Lorenzo the phone and the Walkman line of Angela caught on the button of his jacket, removing the headset from one ear. It also tore the button.
'Oh sorry, I was distracted, wait, wait ... so you break it, do not pull the button, wait! '
'Hell, but you're still snoring or something?! To think that the road is wide ... Yes, yes, observant, so I break it, but you see ...! '
The wire is extricated and Lorenzo bent to pick up the phone.
'What do you listen?'
'Evora'
'I love Miss Morna ... Congratulations, good taste'
'Mmm ... you really like? The fact is that this morning I decided to skip school and travel a bit 'to the island of Cape Verde ..'
'Hehe, yeah, not a bad goal, too, this morning I twisted paths I could take you ... I am fascinated by the sensuality and passion of the 'African fado' ...
You too languid and melancholy? The contagion of sad beauty in place ocean ... '
' Mavala! Rather ... I'm beautiful accent that thou hast. I'm going to the park, if you ask me to sew the button I'll accompany me '
' Oh, nice of you, miss, but the fact is that today are taking place a series of random odd and you, willingly or unwillingly, you could not stop me anyway '
fixed. Reciprocating
fate in the background. Without moving
sniff. Stopping the moment as a criminal s'inchioda with satisfaction to the wall. Or as in saliva throat for half a mouthful too far.
There was a smell of the air caress. There was a breeze to move intent on Angela's hair, slightly, and his shirt a bit 'fluffy, a bit' detached.
She handed him one of the ear, he turned off the phone to the ear and food that twilight.
A love story can also be born that way. Among those who lose their glow and breathe taking density, while the coincidence of time weaving improvisation and movement of a hand can reveal cent.
Lorenzo Angela brushed her hair, as a gesture of unconditional love. Instinctively, he kissed her, capturing awe and reflection. They like being sucked by a hungry nervous and relaxed. Them as unprepared. To exchange pieces of the puzzle in a March morning.
"The beginning of a passion for music has in itself" was how Angela
struck by lightning which nullified all about not letting him.
was so with Lorenzo found herself with her hands in her hair, horns and emotion to shake.
began to listen to and sharing an intimacy made by an unknown spell, he hoped to lull the world.
Speaking accompanied the end of the day. Imperceptible on the border of the lawn and words.
Smell of clothing impregnated with them.
kissed again, without asking questions. Imperceptible waves dancing to the tune of the lips and eyes. In a strange moment that unites pallor. As the evening stuck between veins reddish thickening.
"In the green, creating a bizarre vision hoped"
also turns off the Walkman, no music except that of their breaths. Smell of grass in his mouth and that taste hot.
would not make sense exaggerated words in recounting the minutiae of how you get to skip every stage of courtship and how to elude savoir-faire, a love story also travels up lists of alchemical, expanded or restricted in the moment that the distinctive, full of a feeling that a few explanations and many ways.
Naked Lunch offered on the ports that will contain it.
Lorenzo approached her lips to his neck shook hands at that time. It clamps meat and currents, leaving the teeth outline veins. Angela is not back, stamped in a corner of the sky not distracted his head, defying the darkness as the only witness to the path generated from those lips. Going intersect mouths. They made love in the sunset and late to finish. They shared tremors and eye wide open, ready to caress the eyes, each other, stretched over sharp irises. Curvy and soft. Apparent sharp decline in amnesia.
'Where You jump out'
'Not that which has no memory. I could get the same question '.
again changed color the air. It was found
in a brown voracious announced that sunset that would not die.
Give the light of day to night was equal to that incoming breath caught in my throat.
up her smile in multiple holding out a hand and he made valuable incite.
She kissed him and he knew he kisses.
She kissed him. In a sharp tick sunset. There was an accomplice charges
moons, ready to share if he had wanted.
Sunday, June 4, 2006
1 Year Death Anniversary Invitation
Orange Road
Decibel nervous through the sheet of glass cloth.
I have this vision of you.
That leaves me to walk straight on the water. And low turn my black wings. To file in the background.
's that I have of you.
What torments me, I walk worse than in ivy in revolt. Our game is a revolution and we are still only for others who do not understand us, while we entertain the sink and reconnaissance, meanwhile we are so tangible, with the certainty of no contrition.
this I caress you.
What is blood all my grain and raw for me vomit in my face uncontrollable ecstasy.
Ours is a non-game vibrations are tasteless and only for those who do not coagulate in bold shades.
Andrea is left to walk.
And my hand is so accurate that seems to cure him scratching. Andrea
forces me to break regular rhythms, normo-swallowing. Triggered. Wanted. Lieo.
Me and Andrea. that strange alchemy.
I look at you and makes you an accomplice.
look at me and hands me trespassing.
How to lock them away in a corner and start to lick the blood red tears and desires, such as forgetting the name of a doll parked alongside a normal way because she wanted to.
Like everything now I will, at the instant that you share, tearing off shreds of modesty and hell, make doors that open.
mountain above you without giving you time. You find yourself in an alcohol 'raise the volume angel'.
Masturbami mouth, now do not ask for more.
Rock from the top of a bench. You
erect, I in my lists of harmonic, with finger pressure on your jeans, slipping based on passages that claim, that have yet to smell a little of cloth mixed with meat, push me head against your stomach, do one of my tongue gently fierce.
careful not to leave invisible wounds. I want my mouth is so swollen and purple as sore. Moist.
There is only silence and dim light around sharp fighting with carnal acts screaming. Do you feel my trembling so? Yet so brash as to seem an orphan. I can not slip and fade epidemic with you, so hot. And now I want my romantic violence fragile, steep. It bursts. While most of my skirt m'inarco rises, beats rough skin games, listen him, closer, closer.
Me and Andrea. that dense condition.
Andrea and I swim between hypnotic music and purple shoes. You suck and your skin is my skin is taut and tense. A car stops next to us. Glass filtering dying down our intangible indifference. A woman asks us to join, and I do Andrea shook, his face taking care of the weak non-compliant. Reclaiming our sudden amalgam. Now Andrew is the cock as a weapon in my throat, pull the trigger and I'd be red meat in his hands, unconscious trapeze artist with wings outspread. Andrea crosses fingers through the strands of my hair, the wire tightens as dense in love, it is not detached.
The wood of the bench to chip every movement seems now he lifts me up and kiss me, now that our breasts are the same, that his arms stretch out comfortably on my shoulders. Made to vibrate.
ranicchiata I now in the most acute of me, smiling at him. While still
passers would be violated in our shoes and leave the same impression. Furrows in labyrinthine flavors. Andrea make love, let's do it here, let's do it now.
I let one hand under his shirt. The get up. The parade.
Andrea and I seem to demons in the collision, close our own eyes ... a dark moment and to decide the pace. Protrudes from the pocket of the trousers dropped a pen, grabbed it, carve it, the ink pierces his soul calibrating spasmodic blackouts and thoughts as wind only lost to impatience, come out.
And I want my legs to allow better access to remain open-confidence, so his mouth between my nipples erect open for hours of conversation-filled sky.
Now we save. We give in orgiastic meal like crazy humanoids, dancing in our reflections pallor alcohol, exacerbating turmoil as transparent needles that pierce rivers blacks. I want to feel powerless to go out, winged prey enmeshed in the tangle of your canvas, you moth spider and I, we know of our greedy game of non-innocence.
dance for hours on this bench, you're hot when I come in, her ass sticks perfectly to your cock, and let slip my emotions as a full sail of wind and I hear many times your eyes fall on top of dense moods, and chills.
Andrea continues. Do not stop.
Our languages as extensions of flesh pierced by blades of love. Or like jellyfish. From which burn themselves. Andrea licks me all over, not forgetting mm of skin, his teeth in the path drawing perversions, so I want to fuck and caress me, so I want to berti, to feel polished and slippery, as if it were a trap for caderci Each time you touch bottom. The backrest support arms seems made to live, I turn to ninety Andrea and I still enter in the ass. Feels so crash me crazy, but there is no more shame if impatience of wanting more. And again.
I feel his thrusts as bold riding, I urge you not to stop, it incites to put more force, eagerly grabbed her hips from behind, he takes my wrists, unites them in a single chain. The darkness now accompanies the movements, carousel very well broken down between reflections of moon and trees, Andrea and I still play to get in the game, the most vivid and bold as ever. Without intentional injuries but our take.
Who cares how much time passed, those who watched, those who have enjoyed ourselves, what if we're screaming in silence our tachycardic fainting, if exaggerated gestures and words and sounds and looks. What if chew with anger or sweetness, if you slip leaves tridents and perversions in his mouth, and while we rub raving like animals in unusual pairing. Let us punish him. Leggiamoci slowly and still lose the rhythm of the ink, while I feel I swing between my holes and my pelvis modular winding accomplices.
seems light rain pins, while Andrea makes me savor the smell of wet grass of us and I ordered 'licks' and whispers 'I love you' and pushes me in the mouth dark green beaded, before giving me a kiss.
Then I press on his arm, turning it over. The mountain above. And I'm
filly, sucking the belly, swollen veins. Enjoying every breath of weak, for every groan abandoned. Of my address uterine.
My nipples while piercing the air. And her hands grasp them, why make the supply. Andrea
lifting a little, I want at your side, I raised, without stop riding, he likes to challenge me in complex positions, such pauses be desired, evil does not afford. I
extension shooting and I turn my back now beats on his chest, I want it tight and precise, his stomach was filled. So one can match his hand between ballads and pushed her pussy, giving way to desire more accessible, alternating.
Andrea let me hear you enjoy muscles clench as accurate by rolling, while I both inside the six loans are our brains, and the meat seems to corrode from the burning. We abandoned free in our hungry, so we both liquid and thick, congealed in lysergic hugs.
So we stay until the little lights intrusive extend their pillow at night and kidnapped. So
lost. In the mutual pleasure of closing my eyes. And yet
give vent to inject waves of foamy water games.
Decibel nervous through the sheet of glass cloth.
I have this vision of you.
That leaves me to walk straight on the water. And low turn my black wings. To file in the background.
's that I have of you.
What torments me, I walk worse than in ivy in revolt. Our game is a revolution and we are still only for others who do not understand us, while we entertain the sink and reconnaissance, meanwhile we are so tangible, with the certainty of no contrition.
this I caress you.
What is blood all my grain and raw for me vomit in my face uncontrollable ecstasy.
Ours is a non-game vibrations are tasteless and only for those who do not coagulate in bold shades.
Andrea is left to walk.
And my hand is so accurate that seems to cure him scratching. Andrea
forces me to break regular rhythms, normo-swallowing. Triggered. Wanted. Lieo.
Me and Andrea. that strange alchemy.
I look at you and makes you an accomplice.
look at me and hands me trespassing.
How to lock them away in a corner and start to lick the blood red tears and desires, such as forgetting the name of a doll parked alongside a normal way because she wanted to.
Like everything now I will, at the instant that you share, tearing off shreds of modesty and hell, make doors that open.
mountain above you without giving you time. You find yourself in an alcohol 'raise the volume angel'.
Masturbami mouth, now do not ask for more.
Rock from the top of a bench. You
erect, I in my lists of harmonic, with finger pressure on your jeans, slipping based on passages that claim, that have yet to smell a little of cloth mixed with meat, push me head against your stomach, do one of my tongue gently fierce.
careful not to leave invisible wounds. I want my mouth is so swollen and purple as sore. Moist.
There is only silence and dim light around sharp fighting with carnal acts screaming. Do you feel my trembling so? Yet so brash as to seem an orphan. I can not slip and fade epidemic with you, so hot. And now I want my romantic violence fragile, steep. It bursts. While most of my skirt m'inarco rises, beats rough skin games, listen him, closer, closer.
Me and Andrea. that dense condition.
Andrea and I swim between hypnotic music and purple shoes. You suck and your skin is my skin is taut and tense. A car stops next to us. Glass filtering dying down our intangible indifference. A woman asks us to join, and I do Andrea shook, his face taking care of the weak non-compliant. Reclaiming our sudden amalgam. Now Andrew is the cock as a weapon in my throat, pull the trigger and I'd be red meat in his hands, unconscious trapeze artist with wings outspread. Andrea crosses fingers through the strands of my hair, the wire tightens as dense in love, it is not detached.
The wood of the bench to chip every movement seems now he lifts me up and kiss me, now that our breasts are the same, that his arms stretch out comfortably on my shoulders. Made to vibrate.
ranicchiata I now in the most acute of me, smiling at him. While still
passers would be violated in our shoes and leave the same impression. Furrows in labyrinthine flavors. Andrea make love, let's do it here, let's do it now.
I let one hand under his shirt. The get up. The parade.
Andrea and I seem to demons in the collision, close our own eyes ... a dark moment and to decide the pace. Protrudes from the pocket of the trousers dropped a pen, grabbed it, carve it, the ink pierces his soul calibrating spasmodic blackouts and thoughts as wind only lost to impatience, come out.
And I want my legs to allow better access to remain open-confidence, so his mouth between my nipples erect open for hours of conversation-filled sky.
Now we save. We give in orgiastic meal like crazy humanoids, dancing in our reflections pallor alcohol, exacerbating turmoil as transparent needles that pierce rivers blacks. I want to feel powerless to go out, winged prey enmeshed in the tangle of your canvas, you moth spider and I, we know of our greedy game of non-innocence.
dance for hours on this bench, you're hot when I come in, her ass sticks perfectly to your cock, and let slip my emotions as a full sail of wind and I hear many times your eyes fall on top of dense moods, and chills.
Andrea continues. Do not stop.
Our languages as extensions of flesh pierced by blades of love. Or like jellyfish. From which burn themselves. Andrea licks me all over, not forgetting mm of skin, his teeth in the path drawing perversions, so I want to fuck and caress me, so I want to berti, to feel polished and slippery, as if it were a trap for caderci Each time you touch bottom. The backrest support arms seems made to live, I turn to ninety Andrea and I still enter in the ass. Feels so crash me crazy, but there is no more shame if impatience of wanting more. And again.
I feel his thrusts as bold riding, I urge you not to stop, it incites to put more force, eagerly grabbed her hips from behind, he takes my wrists, unites them in a single chain. The darkness now accompanies the movements, carousel very well broken down between reflections of moon and trees, Andrea and I still play to get in the game, the most vivid and bold as ever. Without intentional injuries but our take.
Who cares how much time passed, those who watched, those who have enjoyed ourselves, what if we're screaming in silence our tachycardic fainting, if exaggerated gestures and words and sounds and looks. What if chew with anger or sweetness, if you slip leaves tridents and perversions in his mouth, and while we rub raving like animals in unusual pairing. Let us punish him. Leggiamoci slowly and still lose the rhythm of the ink, while I feel I swing between my holes and my pelvis modular winding accomplices.
seems light rain pins, while Andrea makes me savor the smell of wet grass of us and I ordered 'licks' and whispers 'I love you' and pushes me in the mouth dark green beaded, before giving me a kiss.
Then I press on his arm, turning it over. The mountain above. And I'm
filly, sucking the belly, swollen veins. Enjoying every breath of weak, for every groan abandoned. Of my address uterine.
My nipples while piercing the air. And her hands grasp them, why make the supply. Andrea
lifting a little, I want at your side, I raised, without stop riding, he likes to challenge me in complex positions, such pauses be desired, evil does not afford. I
extension shooting and I turn my back now beats on his chest, I want it tight and precise, his stomach was filled. So one can match his hand between ballads and pushed her pussy, giving way to desire more accessible, alternating.
Andrea let me hear you enjoy muscles clench as accurate by rolling, while I both inside the six loans are our brains, and the meat seems to corrode from the burning. We abandoned free in our hungry, so we both liquid and thick, congealed in lysergic hugs.
So we stay until the little lights intrusive extend their pillow at night and kidnapped. So
lost. In the mutual pleasure of closing my eyes. And yet
give vent to inject waves of foamy water games.
Oil Victoria Secret Bra
day cream and white musk
hot coffee with cream: they drink, and smile while you realize.
are past, in your sleep, armed (with brushes), and here the striatum of paintings, stained with index and ring fingers, with kisses and brushes and teeth.
hello, my Lady, Welcome back to this time.
also untied the lace of jute, you've flushed the neck, and it fits you.
dressed up, dressed in smiles and flowers and light and wind.
clothes at odd times of music and leather sandals.
undressed - force - of my shirt, you thickened.
and scented foam and mist and white musk.
nay. stay well - you're so cute - with a cream nose dirty.
The neck seems a strip of hair Danae by Klimt, and smile while you realize.
And I stretched while I Give me coffee, with whipped cream this morning, what a delight!
And a thin ray of light pierces the red tent, even thwarted purple walls and on my back while I ride a bit ', to capture the curve of your burning eyes.
The day is really good, looks like a caress mingled with flowers of Van Gogh, right now that the index dip in the cafe there and I just grazed his nose, as well as getting your mouth. A thin wind
incamera Viniciane notes, those of the past, however, that more enjoyable. Meanwhile
your shirt that has absorbed my scent and calls and calls meat breath. So loose, bare skin, the nipples tend to have an invitation.
And the white musk slips between the folds of each position, subduing.
And I, with a funny face staring at me, and without saying, t'attiro to me, smearing even your nose.
While with one hand take the brushes ... now it's your turn.
angie & ac *
hot coffee with cream: they drink, and smile while you realize.
are past, in your sleep, armed (with brushes), and here the striatum of paintings, stained with index and ring fingers, with kisses and brushes and teeth.
hello, my Lady, Welcome back to this time.
also untied the lace of jute, you've flushed the neck, and it fits you.
dressed up, dressed in smiles and flowers and light and wind.
clothes at odd times of music and leather sandals.
undressed - force - of my shirt, you thickened.
and scented foam and mist and white musk.
nay. stay well - you're so cute - with a cream nose dirty.
The neck seems a strip of hair Danae by Klimt, and smile while you realize.
And I stretched while I Give me coffee, with whipped cream this morning, what a delight!
And a thin ray of light pierces the red tent, even thwarted purple walls and on my back while I ride a bit ', to capture the curve of your burning eyes.
The day is really good, looks like a caress mingled with flowers of Van Gogh, right now that the index dip in the cafe there and I just grazed his nose, as well as getting your mouth. A thin wind
incamera Viniciane notes, those of the past, however, that more enjoyable. Meanwhile
your shirt that has absorbed my scent and calls and calls meat breath. So loose, bare skin, the nipples tend to have an invitation.
And the white musk slips between the folds of each position, subduing.
And I, with a funny face staring at me, and without saying, t'attiro to me, smearing even your nose.
While with one hand take the brushes ... now it's your turn.
angie & ac *
Halloween Coffin Plans
ripples
Night dense air of cream, and you have to me, with your coat of bark - we run dirty in the old garden, we jump creaking the grapes in alcohol ( crushed between the molars) and waving his hands fluttering moths near the old lantern - here.
I knew you'd be gone tonight.
I felt the smell of your warm flesh.
see: I placed the daisies on the table, in our jar with water, I lit this candle: Heat rafts floating in Marvin. I dressed in red chairs. and I took a rose, to be held between the teeth, while I hold you, to stop my kisses. here's me, my muse. you caress my lips with opposite movements of the fingertips and drops of wine. and thrust his fingers through your hair.
here's me, me miserable prodigal, who yearn for your chest and dare not escape it - yet we deny it.
behold, you devour the nerves of the neck, just below the shadows of the compartment, pull the skin on the sternum, which is waiting to be sprinkled.
and I hold you back, you Ting's body and fervor redness, spots and boils. t'inseguo and, in your maps, up to the sun and joy, until the waning of the moon to your reappear.
I am, my muse, stirring desires.
Night dense, round haze, and here I am to you, dressed undressed tremors of accumulation of nuisance silent - we run that we think of being just above the floor without touching it, rossoviola berries in the mouth and a kiss common, which makes us vibrate my hands: the rustle of wings night - here.
Goose bumps
You know that my steps and my
capturing trenches with the simple beat of an eyelash.
Belle: daisies on the table, and the water that seems to caress and masturbate each petal, especially white purity, in contrast to this red candle, juice boiling Marvin, trapped in his light hypnotic and trembling, which seems to pursue the pleasure of dancing eyes.
And these chairs, I seem to require postures and slutty fairy, and this rose, I dilated the mouth with broken spines and velvet, your kisses mixed with their trickle, while the veins of their need poison, Maroso join.
While your fingers do my hair needle filigree and talented traps coir, to scratch the face, while your beard on your face dropped, scratched mine.
And my lips seem to crack even the slightest touch.
Here on my toes wrinkled meat hot.
While the back is a smooth board on which to paint. Further complicates the moon, in its sparkle pale glow.
Here, in your carry off my thrill, you know myself in the visionary and exciting to go from here.
In a night that has engraved his insolent perfume in the folds of my sheets.
angie & ac *
Night dense air of cream, and you have to me, with your coat of bark - we run dirty in the old garden, we jump creaking the grapes in alcohol ( crushed between the molars) and waving his hands fluttering moths near the old lantern - here.
I knew you'd be gone tonight.
I felt the smell of your warm flesh.
see: I placed the daisies on the table, in our jar with water, I lit this candle: Heat rafts floating in Marvin. I dressed in red chairs. and I took a rose, to be held between the teeth, while I hold you, to stop my kisses. here's me, my muse. you caress my lips with opposite movements of the fingertips and drops of wine. and thrust his fingers through your hair.
here's me, me miserable prodigal, who yearn for your chest and dare not escape it - yet we deny it.
behold, you devour the nerves of the neck, just below the shadows of the compartment, pull the skin on the sternum, which is waiting to be sprinkled.
and I hold you back, you Ting's body and fervor redness, spots and boils. t'inseguo and, in your maps, up to the sun and joy, until the waning of the moon to your reappear.
I am, my muse, stirring desires.
Night dense, round haze, and here I am to you, dressed undressed tremors of accumulation of nuisance silent - we run that we think of being just above the floor without touching it, rossoviola berries in the mouth and a kiss common, which makes us vibrate my hands: the rustle of wings night - here.
Goose bumps
You know that my steps and my
capturing trenches with the simple beat of an eyelash.
Belle: daisies on the table, and the water that seems to caress and masturbate each petal, especially white purity, in contrast to this red candle, juice boiling Marvin, trapped in his light hypnotic and trembling, which seems to pursue the pleasure of dancing eyes.
And these chairs, I seem to require postures and slutty fairy, and this rose, I dilated the mouth with broken spines and velvet, your kisses mixed with their trickle, while the veins of their need poison, Maroso join.
While your fingers do my hair needle filigree and talented traps coir, to scratch the face, while your beard on your face dropped, scratched mine.
And my lips seem to crack even the slightest touch.
Here on my toes wrinkled meat hot.
While the back is a smooth board on which to paint. Further complicates the moon, in its sparkle pale glow.
Here, in your carry off my thrill, you know myself in the visionary and exciting to go from here.
In a night that has engraved his insolent perfume in the folds of my sheets.
angie & ac *
Where Can I Get Maternity Pads
sown and harvested in the red poppies
white skin and virginal that cut the air and collide with insects: here we are, we, phalanges intertwined, which run between the wheat fields with wide-eyed and .
fields open and close between light bumps, poppies spread out in groups or swarms or peoples.
red-black-hearted, there seem to excite lust vampire most imaginative (or brush).
in the sky - instead - flying butterflies, and higher, higher still, the clouds play at being horses or chickens or lizards or wolves.
are happy to hold still, I'm happy again to touch your freckles scattered scratching your face with my shaggy beard, red with rage and want your thin skin.
are happy and you kiss and you kiss her mouth and legs and sternum e.
find funny is your hair stretched nell'erbetta soft, glowing in my eyes, bristling your nipples and the warm and cold of the remnants of your skin. find funny after so many silences and share flights disjoint, streams dried salted and now on his face. funny jump this time, as if there ever was, was almost imploded in the black heart of the universe.
bodies again and dance and play mad shamans and run like crazy in life, and
we jump from heart to heart.
and fight.
beat as auctions on the buttocks, such as rods on the palms of shivering children in the classrooms of the fifties, like the wings of bats in the moonlight, like volleyball players, as competitors in tournaments of chess, as whores on the edges of roads, as in the flagellates Christian protest marches in the procession, the streets of Babylon hallucinating. our minds and strive to one inside the other, our lips almost touching, our equality between the sheets, the drops one of us in a single embrace.
skin against the sun, flares rents introverted, matters of plot that just savor it require more blood.
And the fields are a small space, or immensitudine not know where to fold, like the petals of red poppies in the wind. And no one knows who rejoice before, if the heart of the drum or the desires of the teeth.
in the sky - then - there are remnants of fingertips, precise and sharp features of meat, will not be deleted, so that the sky Its been a while that takes 'a little boy' naive and it's like to throw in a pocket Sbruffo that smacks of "come on, one more time '." And
games hazelnut crumbs scattered among the basins and plains of the skin, that is, except that it would, at breakneck speed.
It was happy in a amen.e.
Place all items out of the trunk and loss, sharp pieces of the puzzle of heart and wine, a glass of Marvin can not hurt, can only remind the throat that the vintage is excellent.
And suddenly becomes the basis for days with mother of pearl friable, or blade is breast red marks and undulations of the hips, with fingers that do not know where to fight and nestle in the folds become injured.
And while I realize that you left there, your wings, put on the table beside my bed, her mouth in an exhausting and perhaps occur, which is even bare feet just below the canopy, where a two night creatures of the same planet played to affect the lives not by mistake.
and red poppies, made fire in the throat at the temples and lips.
angie & ac *
white skin and virginal that cut the air and collide with insects: here we are, we, phalanges intertwined, which run between the wheat fields with wide-eyed and .
fields open and close between light bumps, poppies spread out in groups or swarms or peoples.
red-black-hearted, there seem to excite lust vampire most imaginative (or brush).
in the sky - instead - flying butterflies, and higher, higher still, the clouds play at being horses or chickens or lizards or wolves.
are happy to hold still, I'm happy again to touch your freckles scattered scratching your face with my shaggy beard, red with rage and want your thin skin.
are happy and you kiss and you kiss her mouth and legs and sternum e.
find funny is your hair stretched nell'erbetta soft, glowing in my eyes, bristling your nipples and the warm and cold of the remnants of your skin. find funny after so many silences and share flights disjoint, streams dried salted and now on his face. funny jump this time, as if there ever was, was almost imploded in the black heart of the universe.
bodies again and dance and play mad shamans and run like crazy in life, and
we jump from heart to heart.
and fight.
beat as auctions on the buttocks, such as rods on the palms of shivering children in the classrooms of the fifties, like the wings of bats in the moonlight, like volleyball players, as competitors in tournaments of chess, as whores on the edges of roads, as in the flagellates Christian protest marches in the procession, the streets of Babylon hallucinating. our minds and strive to one inside the other, our lips almost touching, our equality between the sheets, the drops one of us in a single embrace.
skin against the sun, flares rents introverted, matters of plot that just savor it require more blood.
And the fields are a small space, or immensitudine not know where to fold, like the petals of red poppies in the wind. And no one knows who rejoice before, if the heart of the drum or the desires of the teeth.
in the sky - then - there are remnants of fingertips, precise and sharp features of meat, will not be deleted, so that the sky Its been a while that takes 'a little boy' naive and it's like to throw in a pocket Sbruffo that smacks of "come on, one more time '." And
games hazelnut crumbs scattered among the basins and plains of the skin, that is, except that it would, at breakneck speed.
It was happy in a amen.e.
Place all items out of the trunk and loss, sharp pieces of the puzzle of heart and wine, a glass of Marvin can not hurt, can only remind the throat that the vintage is excellent.
And suddenly becomes the basis for days with mother of pearl friable, or blade is breast red marks and undulations of the hips, with fingers that do not know where to fight and nestle in the folds become injured.
And while I realize that you left there, your wings, put on the table beside my bed, her mouth in an exhausting and perhaps occur, which is even bare feet just below the canopy, where a two night creatures of the same planet played to affect the lives not by mistake.
and red poppies, made fire in the throat at the temples and lips.
angie & ac *
Women's Genital Tattooes
Chaos
It fills me waiting and the scenes that we do not have my light on him and before him,
while impatient I press my ass against your cock and turn my head for a kiss, to stay inside.
All night.
close the cover of a book, catch the scent of a page.
he uncovers, as my skin from the sheets.
revitalize this apparent decline, the problem is only in your head, you'll want to look modest, but the difference, not you, the voice of defeat as it dries in the throat, I take this with me a shout and expands in your mouth, choke, torn to. To concede. And give you the benefit of the doubt, if that smell, after all, is my sedition.
If you bump into these eyes half open in the face of the smoke as soon as you are swallowed or if so, to allow you to enter my key dimension. A
Moina et voila, you're trapped, that's not how it works, if you indecision.
Surviving is a luxury that we can not afford to tread.
In any condition, favorable wind or not, The important thing is to leave.
understand now what I want? What are they? You can follow the wind, if I notice minds, there is a tendency in the dark anyway, even into chaos, I like splashing, while I make love, while you suck my dick and I want more and more, and you bite nipples, I licked his eyelids, rub your ass on your crotch, you scratch my neck, I feed on your blood.
I regained your mouth perfect, full lips on contact, and I stock up on your eyes. spettrale.lussurioso.
apparent abandonment, I know, as I surrounds the walls around the neck, and I fly and my flesh will adhere as ivy.
few preliminaries, fuck me?
throw this fucking mess behind enters the mine. Fuck me again.
And you fill the waiting is over already.
It fills me waiting and the scenes that we do not have my light on him and before him,
while impatient I press my ass against your cock and turn my head for a kiss, to stay inside.
All night.
close the cover of a book, catch the scent of a page.
he uncovers, as my skin from the sheets.
revitalize this apparent decline, the problem is only in your head, you'll want to look modest, but the difference, not you, the voice of defeat as it dries in the throat, I take this with me a shout and expands in your mouth, choke, torn to. To concede. And give you the benefit of the doubt, if that smell, after all, is my sedition.
If you bump into these eyes half open in the face of the smoke as soon as you are swallowed or if so, to allow you to enter my key dimension. A
Moina et voila, you're trapped, that's not how it works, if you indecision.
Surviving is a luxury that we can not afford to tread.
In any condition, favorable wind or not, The important thing is to leave.
understand now what I want? What are they? You can follow the wind, if I notice minds, there is a tendency in the dark anyway, even into chaos, I like splashing, while I make love, while you suck my dick and I want more and more, and you bite nipples, I licked his eyelids, rub your ass on your crotch, you scratch my neck, I feed on your blood.
I regained your mouth perfect, full lips on contact, and I stock up on your eyes. spettrale.lussurioso.
apparent abandonment, I know, as I surrounds the walls around the neck, and I fly and my flesh will adhere as ivy.
few preliminaries, fuck me?
throw this fucking mess behind enters the mine. Fuck me again.
And you fill the waiting is over already.
How To Write A Contact Sheet For A Welcome Bag
You can only look
Do not tell me 'think of health'.
Leave me here to wish others wet trespassing.
And if you know an alternative to love, Save it for you. Support
eyes on the ledge because you warmer even more, like a cat just above the radiator, look at him while he sleeps. Three hours prior to crank it up, saying 'fuck', feelin 'I want to fuck you', go ahead till you drop, collapsed just two minutes ago and I, now here, in the warmth of the blanket flower poggiatagli above and in the smoke undecided of her only cigarette. The
rummage in his best side, ranicchiato in a corner in life, between the softness of down and the rawness of my summary.
Maybe you travel between dreams ... I hope it is not used. Meanwhile
that the eyes do whatever they want. I like to spy on you from here, openly, in microns of transparency, I like to sip coffee hot, naked, on the ground, leaning against the radiator. The floor have our fingerprints, I've pushed to the ground, opening the curtain, the light of the candle that looks sprayed unknown. You told me 'trust me', while the knees are scratched into contact with the last strip of carpet and then immediately pushing it almost suffocated me in the mouth, grabbing her head, staring at me.
Blood and Wine to run at the same time, mouth wet with saliva and fingers to grasp the flesh, this frees us to go together in cages obsession, and the noise disappears, it annihilates in shreds of relief, Tear meat from the navel and fill the void.
You sleep, blessed, and I have the ride of our stunts well in tests, it seems still moving, small and bare, greedy, and m'inculi m'alzi head and saying 'still', and make my mouth frugami a face in the front row, we like the smell of this complicity that sometimes slow dance, sometimes chasing other side dishes, while they increase the forces and become the animal you are, even when I say you do not love me, that love her or the idea of her.
Do not tell me 'think of health'.
Fuck.
Yes, I enjoyed myself looking out the window, m'istigava the rustle of your breaths through clenched teeth, the mastery of his fingers through his hair, the smell of my cunt just expanded a little 'legs, the pressure of words, the contact cheek on the cold floor. We looked just a bit and then understood. Fables.
We are filled with desires, just across the sheets, caressed me while I thought I did not even touch you, I kissed you how to kiss a man who is loved and then all the blood has gone bad, for love sometimes has the strange faces, others funny, others unlikely.
We are in the fast lane and do not realize that sometimes it's better to slow down.
Roads parallel clusters yet look what combines life, but yes, we live day by day, now I look again and skin on your sperm is frozen.
You know what I want now? To lay on the ground that big cunt deck, scattering the flowers, and lick her asshole, penetrating with the language and then with a finger while I go up with your mouth along the split and over along the back to bite you 'of the neck, filled with saliva cheek, take away my desire to fill the well face, turning, leaving you cursing and complaining that can not stand it. Tell you that I love you.
Maybe I take it back after an hour of standby or caresses me with a shawl violacarne, maybe I would be the desire to get paid wondering who I am, I know I massacre of needles invisbili, inexorable.
You basically, you're only in it. even in the middle.
fed to vultures my profile good as I tease and I pretend to enchant.
So yes.
You can always just watch.
('Wind for wind,
in favor or against what's wrong at the end of life'
Liga)
Do not tell me 'think of health'.
Leave me here to wish others wet trespassing.
And if you know an alternative to love, Save it for you. Support
eyes on the ledge because you warmer even more, like a cat just above the radiator, look at him while he sleeps. Three hours prior to crank it up, saying 'fuck', feelin 'I want to fuck you', go ahead till you drop, collapsed just two minutes ago and I, now here, in the warmth of the blanket flower poggiatagli above and in the smoke undecided of her only cigarette. The
rummage in his best side, ranicchiato in a corner in life, between the softness of down and the rawness of my summary.
Maybe you travel between dreams ... I hope it is not used. Meanwhile
that the eyes do whatever they want. I like to spy on you from here, openly, in microns of transparency, I like to sip coffee hot, naked, on the ground, leaning against the radiator. The floor have our fingerprints, I've pushed to the ground, opening the curtain, the light of the candle that looks sprayed unknown. You told me 'trust me', while the knees are scratched into contact with the last strip of carpet and then immediately pushing it almost suffocated me in the mouth, grabbing her head, staring at me.
Blood and Wine to run at the same time, mouth wet with saliva and fingers to grasp the flesh, this frees us to go together in cages obsession, and the noise disappears, it annihilates in shreds of relief, Tear meat from the navel and fill the void.
You sleep, blessed, and I have the ride of our stunts well in tests, it seems still moving, small and bare, greedy, and m'inculi m'alzi head and saying 'still', and make my mouth frugami a face in the front row, we like the smell of this complicity that sometimes slow dance, sometimes chasing other side dishes, while they increase the forces and become the animal you are, even when I say you do not love me, that love her or the idea of her.
Do not tell me 'think of health'.
Fuck.
Yes, I enjoyed myself looking out the window, m'istigava the rustle of your breaths through clenched teeth, the mastery of his fingers through his hair, the smell of my cunt just expanded a little 'legs, the pressure of words, the contact cheek on the cold floor. We looked just a bit and then understood. Fables.
We are filled with desires, just across the sheets, caressed me while I thought I did not even touch you, I kissed you how to kiss a man who is loved and then all the blood has gone bad, for love sometimes has the strange faces, others funny, others unlikely.
We are in the fast lane and do not realize that sometimes it's better to slow down.
Roads parallel clusters yet look what combines life, but yes, we live day by day, now I look again and skin on your sperm is frozen.
You know what I want now? To lay on the ground that big cunt deck, scattering the flowers, and lick her asshole, penetrating with the language and then with a finger while I go up with your mouth along the split and over along the back to bite you 'of the neck, filled with saliva cheek, take away my desire to fill the well face, turning, leaving you cursing and complaining that can not stand it. Tell you that I love you.
Maybe I take it back after an hour of standby or caresses me with a shawl violacarne, maybe I would be the desire to get paid wondering who I am, I know I massacre of needles invisbili, inexorable.
You basically, you're only in it. even in the middle.
fed to vultures my profile good as I tease and I pretend to enchant.
So yes.
You can always just watch.
('Wind for wind,
in favor or against what's wrong at the end of life'
Liga)
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Hutcherson Desperate Housewives
Despite all
She stops began to tell him so 'I your eyes clear and blue that you give everything for them '
upsetting the world from a pocket Spread the wrists giving a rustling alchemy gasping
Now I'd better look at uncovering scraps of flesh wound Peace and aimed at one breath
I tore the skin from saliva drop me a lip dissolve lipstick on his cheek bitten hound on your navel imagined
Imboccami irregular bottom of your fingers a for so that my mouth moves to take bitch and live my lips bite
The house seems hot liquid its pale walls, so the capacity
upside down from the window of fog
Without doubt now I'm gonna suck sucking in the confusion of this silence
My teeth like pins to press on your veins spice up the language of skilled torture me in choosing the routes convenient delighted to swelling Yet we had warned vinous
Outside the air sported a ridiculous privacy laying in the shade of our lungs I
fragments of survival between my groove metal and you inject the ink on my three strips of meat dried blood from his mouth Trasferiscimi plan quickly foul foul foul slut slut
still play a roll of the dice to come while I imagined the smell of rain makes us wet and mackerel in centimeters breathed interlocking rings
Black wire to stretch gravitation We suspended everything else remains saw the ceiling uncovered flows
Strusciami cock sbattimelo tongue in her mouth as hard as you can do in my throat obstruction angles crack I'll give you red rivers
Meanwhile peeps not distracted from the floor and left a Polaroid self-harm in eating and drinking half having nailed to the portion of your brain busy this light makes the best blood
Spring (fucking bastard) clumsy fragrance of strawberries and nipples on a double squares that seems even better than me whining bitch in hot masturbation controlled
Nevertheless despite all
The aroma of my daughter drives me to crash into the wall violates
Nobody would have understood the lulling rhythm of that music box and you forward to in a pleasant and you just tilt a little 'face to worry and your cock is so hard against my belly that I erode the fabric I decomposed entrails
Everything except I thought it would have reckoned
Everything except your soul into my throat in a light micromillimeter Now push the veins require more capacious leather fringed by chills and hot while the last preamble fool you find no edges inside my brain at least as full of content inside my pussy
bruciami
The column front-entry seems to become round with blackwhite to blur those lines with my freckles scrap slap wrist socket head arched passage weight and move me head firmly at the door now and my lips that seem needles on your shoulder The dark wood framing my picture and you keep schiacciarmici against memorize a hand through his black jeans and panties tar
Shakes the static cell divides into a second net detachment unplugged the world is dark
lace curtains through your fingers slick insistent that continue ignoring the difficulty of the hard stuff denim wherever your mouth on my neck I still do not dare to escape slinguami stop or I'll rip your heart
What the hell are you god blessed
A fall like a stone above my head to clear cut to pieces with your knife blue to let me so I did not feel as naked as ever
With the same vehemence and naturalness with which you suck up hours to finish you off and then resurrected with a simple 'Sssshhhh' posandoti the finger to his lips too much just before my
members here want you to every inch of my house on every crack in the floor nailed to the walls with purple and red mess
Berti
oltrepassami
me sit permettimelo let me open your legs Trojan poses riversami heavy impressions let him run everything you let this pass in the brain straitjacket do us part like two crazy because we blend in the fulcrum of his notice of this and how to enjoy fireworks that do not know what to haemorrhage forgotten
Everything stunned as the effect of the incoming spring asunder Manco was also straddled her craving for meat and impregnating
Naked Lunch for our palates shameful thicker Jellyfish so easy to tap and understand that it hurts
fuck
The brain will swell well adapting your drives as your fingers seem to corrode so my hips and tighten the corners of s'infittiscono mouth of folds and games acrobat
drop to his knees in the corner of these shiny thirty-five meters square decrease abandonment distinguishes me as you pale reflections of my buttocks turn red and also an order
'face' I
You know now that just touches listen vibro paste this dance as sniffed adrenaline just join me in a circle in the ass at this moment so light damp and I can only offer you the entry and you can not blame that
Meanwhile, the anti-Christ music clogs the pores of the glass-window
kiss
I'm thinking about how you (turning to me) so not to wake up to a thousand times then wanting the same number and again and again I'm thinking that maybe if everything was liquid it would be easier
And that this shakes the collapse of shots from the uterus to the brain has made me even more stubborn than most foul
sincere and that this house could be a wonderful house from which I could enter her door and surprise you thinking of fiction
you to think ... 'In spite of everything had come.
the open window came the light of March and almond trees of the avenue
shamelessly exhibited an embarrassing, vigorous flowering. The air was still crisp
to make the eyes water but she had come, despite
all set to spring '
And instead we are here in our fucked up 35 square meters of sharing in our breaths of anger and sweetness in the accumulation of 'intrigue and comfort in our desire
obvious to see that all the poetry of us is in the simplicity of its minimum and has already recorded the number of times before you actually happen to us on the threshold
She stops began to tell him so 'I your eyes clear and blue that you give everything for them '
upsetting the world from a pocket Spread the wrists giving a rustling alchemy gasping
Now I'd better look at uncovering scraps of flesh wound Peace and aimed at one breath
I tore the skin from saliva drop me a lip dissolve lipstick on his cheek bitten hound on your navel imagined
Imboccami irregular bottom of your fingers a for so that my mouth moves to take bitch and live my lips bite
The house seems hot liquid its pale walls, so the capacity
upside down from the window of fog
Without doubt now I'm gonna suck sucking in the confusion of this silence
My teeth like pins to press on your veins spice up the language of skilled torture me in choosing the routes convenient delighted to swelling Yet we had warned vinous
Outside the air sported a ridiculous privacy laying in the shade of our lungs I
fragments of survival between my groove metal and you inject the ink on my three strips of meat dried blood from his mouth Trasferiscimi plan quickly foul foul foul slut slut
still play a roll of the dice to come while I imagined the smell of rain makes us wet and mackerel in centimeters breathed interlocking rings
Black wire to stretch gravitation We suspended everything else remains saw the ceiling uncovered flows
Strusciami cock sbattimelo tongue in her mouth as hard as you can do in my throat obstruction angles crack I'll give you red rivers
Meanwhile peeps not distracted from the floor and left a Polaroid self-harm in eating and drinking half having nailed to the portion of your brain busy this light makes the best blood
Spring (fucking bastard) clumsy fragrance of strawberries and nipples on a double squares that seems even better than me whining bitch in hot masturbation controlled
Nevertheless despite all
The aroma of my daughter drives me to crash into the wall violates
Nobody would have understood the lulling rhythm of that music box and you forward to in a pleasant and you just tilt a little 'face to worry and your cock is so hard against my belly that I erode the fabric I decomposed entrails
Everything except I thought it would have reckoned
Everything except your soul into my throat in a light micromillimeter Now push the veins require more capacious leather fringed by chills and hot while the last preamble fool you find no edges inside my brain at least as full of content inside my pussy
bruciami
The column front-entry seems to become round with blackwhite to blur those lines with my freckles scrap slap wrist socket head arched passage weight and move me head firmly at the door now and my lips that seem needles on your shoulder The dark wood framing my picture and you keep schiacciarmici against memorize a hand through his black jeans and panties tar
Shakes the static cell divides into a second net detachment unplugged the world is dark
lace curtains through your fingers slick insistent that continue ignoring the difficulty of the hard stuff denim wherever your mouth on my neck I still do not dare to escape slinguami stop or I'll rip your heart
What the hell are you god blessed
A fall like a stone above my head to clear cut to pieces with your knife blue to let me so I did not feel as naked as ever
With the same vehemence and naturalness with which you suck up hours to finish you off and then resurrected with a simple 'Sssshhhh' posandoti the finger to his lips too much just before my
members here want you to every inch of my house on every crack in the floor nailed to the walls with purple and red mess
Berti
oltrepassami
me sit permettimelo let me open your legs Trojan poses riversami heavy impressions let him run everything you let this pass in the brain straitjacket do us part like two crazy because we blend in the fulcrum of his notice of this and how to enjoy fireworks that do not know what to haemorrhage forgotten
Everything stunned as the effect of the incoming spring asunder Manco was also straddled her craving for meat and impregnating
Naked Lunch for our palates shameful thicker Jellyfish so easy to tap and understand that it hurts
fuck
The brain will swell well adapting your drives as your fingers seem to corrode so my hips and tighten the corners of s'infittiscono mouth of folds and games acrobat
drop to his knees in the corner of these shiny thirty-five meters square decrease abandonment distinguishes me as you pale reflections of my buttocks turn red and also an order
'face' I
You know now that just touches listen vibro paste this dance as sniffed adrenaline just join me in a circle in the ass at this moment so light damp and I can only offer you the entry and you can not blame that
Meanwhile, the anti-Christ music clogs the pores of the glass-window
kiss
I'm thinking about how you (turning to me) so not to wake up to a thousand times then wanting the same number and again and again I'm thinking that maybe if everything was liquid it would be easier
And that this shakes the collapse of shots from the uterus to the brain has made me even more stubborn than most foul
sincere and that this house could be a wonderful house from which I could enter her door and surprise you thinking of fiction
you to think ... 'In spite of everything had come.
the open window came the light of March and almond trees of the avenue
shamelessly exhibited an embarrassing, vigorous flowering. The air was still crisp
to make the eyes water but she had come, despite
all set to spring '
And instead we are here in our fucked up 35 square meters of sharing in our breaths of anger and sweetness in the accumulation of 'intrigue and comfort in our desire
obvious to see that all the poetry of us is in the simplicity of its minimum and has already recorded the number of times before you actually happen to us on the threshold
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Gay Looking Motorcycle Jacket
Cruor
[You tremors and fatigue ,
have the words - walk
pending. Love
is your blood - no more]
flows engraved
sliding
mutations and words - is jerks
red wine with the taste of blood
because the mouth does not dry up
With the taste of blood spilled to the ground by the words of glass,
mute mouths and without fingers
waiting to hear.
only need a small piece of flesh and nails
be moving left their irises - would not suffice instead suspended
caresses pungent
ride the veins - softened the blow would be enough
a breath on your neck arched between
shoulders suddenly looks
heavy drinking blood still in the light.
And there would be no return and grievance
but relentless evolution of the senses
it separated the material combinations
lightweight clothing - such as overheated
transparent tunics and lava
of moments rather than just tremors
awards have always been what we in the dark or in
glow
Only the taste of a confession
in the heat of bodies in the night
loose clothes, and long downhills and souls
accelerations and peace, in the looks and stares silently
Peace and aimed at one breath
a sigh in tattered
because this is also the effect that you feel this
pieces to be revived - a little at a time
cibandomi
cognizance of 'to be alive'
Because this is the effect that these gaps do
sudden the bottom of my heart.
In the name of all this, then,
of it being broken.
reborn in other forms
two by two.
reborn into a single watermark of limbs and tremors
in this land of ropes from masturbating
to play them better tools
rare in the veracity of their issue
EYO & angie
[You tremors and fatigue ,
have the words - walk
pending. Love
is your blood - no more]
flows engraved
sliding
mutations and words - is jerks
red wine with the taste of blood
because the mouth does not dry up
With the taste of blood spilled to the ground by the words of glass,
mute mouths and without fingers
waiting to hear.
only need a small piece of flesh and nails
be moving left their irises - would not suffice instead suspended
caresses pungent
ride the veins - softened the blow would be enough
a breath on your neck arched between
shoulders suddenly looks
heavy drinking blood still in the light.
And there would be no return and grievance
but relentless evolution of the senses
it separated the material combinations
lightweight clothing - such as overheated
transparent tunics and lava
of moments rather than just tremors
awards have always been what we in the dark or in
glow
Only the taste of a confession
in the heat of bodies in the night
loose clothes, and long downhills and souls
accelerations and peace, in the looks and stares silently
Peace and aimed at one breath
a sigh in tattered
because this is also the effect that you feel this
pieces to be revived - a little at a time
cibandomi
cognizance of 'to be alive'
Because this is the effect that these gaps do
sudden the bottom of my heart.
In the name of all this, then,
of it being broken.
reborn in other forms
two by two.
reborn into a single watermark of limbs and tremors
in this land of ropes from masturbating
to play them better tools
rare in the veracity of their issue
EYO & angie
Friday, May 12, 2006
Victoria's Secret Oil Bra
pink borer in creponne
And tonight
fabric that seems to surround the intermittent breaths in
push of a hidden sun too
playing devoured between moments and hours to be locked to a tree
maybe even the smell of trodden leaves emerge
endless stretches of swings than we could go round a thousand times and
do not ever find yourself wanting to stop mortgage
the thickness of a subtle gesture
hand, to sway
I reminded the precarious edges of the walls while
colors peeking through the folds in the air and membranous
STARTS
without us in front of the goal without readjustments
noisy band of vertigo
night and will be in your hands when the sand foundation amalgamate
a slight lack of voice, memories I'll have you washing
placed a kiss on his chest
curled up in my gates, rare, and baby
the trip will not slow soon.
inexhaustible Whole
the lack of the day still left there, to crumble, put
telling us of the kindness, immersing in gestures
nostrils in the wings of silk and butterfly
clear I wear this dress to wonder
so fluid and so meticulous
in each turn of the eyes from a blow, as you seem to collapse
and swallow her throat that you sponge
and deception will not look past this miracle
dusk
no warm light, blurs
in every crevice of every smiling expression, changes in the sharpness of a just
and join in the confirmation of a place not inhabited
let the air caress
invoking winds and mute objections
in becoming accomplices and demons , oscillations of opal accumulation of dense
swallows
articulate and serves no purpose to reveal skin that burns and burns
this flock of needles and velvet in my mouth
steep thrills of a permanent
' I love you 'and a' flight '.
And tonight
fabric that seems to surround the intermittent breaths in
push of a hidden sun too
playing devoured between moments and hours to be locked to a tree
maybe even the smell of trodden leaves emerge
endless stretches of swings than we could go round a thousand times and
do not ever find yourself wanting to stop mortgage
the thickness of a subtle gesture
hand, to sway
I reminded the precarious edges of the walls while
colors peeking through the folds in the air and membranous
STARTS
without us in front of the goal without readjustments
noisy band of vertigo
night and will be in your hands when the sand foundation amalgamate
a slight lack of voice, memories I'll have you washing
placed a kiss on his chest
curled up in my gates, rare, and baby
the trip will not slow soon.
inexhaustible Whole
the lack of the day still left there, to crumble, put
telling us of the kindness, immersing in gestures
nostrils in the wings of silk and butterfly
clear I wear this dress to wonder
so fluid and so meticulous
in each turn of the eyes from a blow, as you seem to collapse
and swallow her throat that you sponge
and deception will not look past this miracle
dusk
no warm light, blurs
in every crevice of every smiling expression, changes in the sharpness of a just
and join in the confirmation of a place not inhabited
let the air caress
invoking winds and mute objections
in becoming accomplices and demons , oscillations of opal accumulation of dense
swallows
articulate and serves no purpose to reveal skin that burns and burns
this flock of needles and velvet in my mouth
steep thrills of a permanent
' I love you 'and a' flight '.
Sunday, May 7, 2006
Cruiseship Auditions 2010
Moulroù (beyond the red curtain) collage
horizontal light Those days, when it rains with the sun. Among the shadows of the clouds and trees in the gardens. When the individual You can see the color of the water drops, and it makes you smile for no reason.
They'll tell you that the train passes only once, that what you lost was the last. But I do not believe it is not true, I'm sad shit from people. I spend plenty of trains, Angie, until you want to climb it and go, go. Under a sky
absurd, Irish, my pace on the streets of this desert town, regardless of the drops that wet my clothes, not a soul around, narrow and lit bar, even if it is day, and the hills with the vineyards in the background. And tens of invisible people, here is where are all those who, behind every closed door, under every sign, crowded the benches, through transparent stained glass: a glass of wine, shouting in a thick, talking about trains and stations. Who would want to change, who is still traveling, who should leave. Again.
wine in the air, that if they can smell and the thrill. Inside the nostrils, skin, all the heavy feelings that take me in the stomach, suggestive of descent, the heart that unbridled heat.
When winter I got on your train without knowing it, on the fly, black coat and his hands on the handles to avoid falling, moving among the passengers that they let me go, in the bend of the race on the sidewalk.
look into your eyes and find yourself sitting there, beyond the book you were reading.
----------------------------------------------- -------
is not an easy situation, Angie.
Whether you there or not there is, in this large table, where we all sit for the meeting on Tuesday, does not really matter.
With all the noise they heard in those random moments of collective silence at the end where someone always says all fucked up and feel.
This time it was fucked up but a zip. That of my pants. And I, hm hm, to clear my throat, to cover the noise.
So now, the dancing began, Angie.
I'm talking about. I answer questions from colleagues, explain, put things in a row. I know that you like putting your fingers in your mouth and make me say bad words.
I have a firm voice, instead. Can not do it to break. I have a firm voice and his hard cock, Angie, and your lips wet to climb. How the hell do you let me come so hard, just with your breath on the flap open?
hate this power you have, and you'll have an easy life. You know.
God, it's terrible to try to resist your lips, at the risk of breaking a pencil in my hand. I'm debating. I'm telling my own, okay? A social worker who shoots shit. We also want someone to contradict a social worker who shoots shit, and fucking with her husband once every three months, and it shows very well.
What if they knew what they're doing to me is the hair-raising and the tips of her breasts, Angie. And he should be with hard nipples and disgusted and offended face.
Everything inside, of course. Do you like me all in, feel, taste, shape and texture of my bird. Think what you like makes me want to let me come and go, right away, so, like an animal. But woe to the world.
There is a need of my attention here. If I ask a question I must answer. Other than give in to this insane desire to pull up from the table in front of everyone, and you will see her breasts, and kiss your lips that know me, until the agony and the skin becomes red and sweaty, fuck off.
Fuck you, Angie, as you are good with your mouth. For all the thoughts that make me think about how you have learned. On cocks you sucked, yes. How did you find that you like caress with your tongue and tease with his teeth and feel like you harden the climax when you impose on yourself.
Luckily others are talking about now. One event that I do not follow me. Fortunately, because now you're making the most fearful, you're licking it slowly as you can, inch by inch meat sucked and tortured. With those feelings so powerful and uncontrollable that you can not ignore. You know it, because I'm good to ignore feelings and pretend nothing has happened? E 'for what you love to take me up to this point.
Tap again to talk to me, is a miracle that I did not notice anything because all the muscles of the chest contracts and you're a bastard. And you know it. Swallow, I said what I had to say. There is another which I respond, says his, and I will speak again when he finished. The primary, with his blue eyes wide open, staring at me. The sound strange, sure. God you make me do, Angie.
Torture is this true, and I know every movement, every secret. Some strokes can kill, easily. To me this is not the juice with force, with that back-and-forth between the lips of the chapel quickly as women do sometimes. Go very slowly, he savored each small segment. And I can not but feel more, I fuck the merger. Lightness that draws attention, a spirit that is running out, without the slightest glimmer escape.
Christ, yes, you've already won, you're fucking soul, and you just the lips, that's what you are.
I break the voice as I speak now. I give up, to speak normally. I can not. I'm too on edge, and you know tenermici, I hate you. And while I think I hate you, spreading her legs, begging for me to take it all, because it is a pleasure, and bad as well, I shudder. I startled the fuck you in the mouth, ready to cum, and I'm here to talk about other things, the things that I do not care. The primary
looks into my eyes and then drops his eyes to the belly, planted against the edge of the table. Can not you understand what's going on underneath, and my legs stretched wide apart and that you take me to the inevitable and make me feel I belong to who and what you can flush draw, for giving me everything, for me to pieces in total defeat.
Do not make me come now, Angie, please. Let me come
, Angie. Do not keep me so, I am dying to cum inside. The feeling of your inner lips between my teeth, while the sap and shoot, my head between your thighs. Their soft elastic, thick, twin pavilions of meat.
Diocristo, fuck off.
Yes, they are watching me. I get along, fuck you think. Finish the sentences, the breath goes away on its own, but I say what I had to say, even if my brain is empty.
Maybe someone has understood and is silent. I'm blushing. More I think more and turn red. The more I think about your lips on the chapel and more would die in you.
It 's impossible not to think about your lips, not distracted, take me deeper and deeper, I have.
I have barely time to wait for the others' attention wander for a moment, somebody else takes the floor. I could not wait a second longer, I can now let me finish.
Now I can prepare myself to orgasm as when you stiffen the whole body before going to slam into an accident. I'd stare in her eyes, as they are, you know?
you like my eyes as the pleasure that you know me I fuck the mind and semen out of me.
ends the meeting and the others get up and go, one by one. I remain alone, always the same sitting, half body under the table, sprawled on plastic chair with his legs stiff and open, and the bird out.
I wonder if there were or were not there, Angie, with me. The last one leaves the room and down with me under the table, there are none.
I wonder if you were really here, maybe you slipped somewhere, you're still here. Your scent. I would refer
pants, opened the flap and went down to half. And I'll go get a towel to clean the mess on the floor under this table, the drops of semen that I have scattered in the air, helpless, lost in the inevitable.
----------------------------------------------- -------
I like to put in difficult situations, Lorenzo.
mess that your air compact that your savoir-faire that can numb a god. And now you're here, groped to sit in an appropriate compound for the meeting on Tuesday, I know I'll enjoy to give participants an awareness that perhaps you have never seen or felt. I also know that you opporrai by any means, trying not to let you go, trying to keep that professional tone that marks you, with eyes focused on business events that will compete in the semi-open blouse or your colleague who sits almost in front of you, however, to remind you that you are a man and that the eye wants its fucking part, and not just for spreadsheets report to be presented.
Now I will start dancing.
I hear you speak, your voice is smooth, the subtle looks of indifference that others may become more dense as you take on opponents in arguments, exhibiting a sort of lineup, you want to be well understood before anyone says the same old shit.
The sound of the zip does not remain in the background, even the chatter.
My hands will not stop, you know.
I will leave that to follow the path of your pants legs up in the middle, is knowing your cock gently. Here, I do not have time to brush that is already hard, even though you try to resist my lips, starting with a slight movement, the contours of your chapel, along the skin. And I admit that it would be extremely enjoyable, as you talk, put your fingers in his mouth, rotate them, muffling all the words, press on the palate, it comes out and crushed on the lips, letting you take the unusual twist. Your voice is still strong for now, not 'signs of slowing down, but you know it will not last.
I love this power I have and I love the fact that then I will not have an easy life.
It 's amazing to hear the case, as you try to resist, threatening to take away the thoughts that crowd my mind you really like flip this fucking table around which each character is floating in unnaturalness of its size, and get there before them, saying truly yours, what do you like fuck, how would you break through the mouth and then her ass, than I like to put bent to ninety seeing my tits dangle consisting , taking me by the hair, alternating pressures in the body and brain. This
think, stare while the social worker says that crap, if he knew that what I'm doing her pussy instantly gets wet, threatening to stain his white suit fine gauze.
And maybe it would be too disgusted with the face, dropping the hint of being offended. Knowing in fact not at all. Meanwhile
you inside me, everything I like die by sucking, feeling it swell in her mouth asking another space, looking for the throat, I like to lick the chapel riaffondare and then suddenly, just when you answer a few more stubborn interlocutor, while trying to break away from the pleasure you're screwing up the belly and the head and just can not.
Just fuck me I know now. Why do we need your attention there, god bono, because I can not contradict your skill so simply ignore feelings, bring up to this point ...
touches you speak again, I still rage, you suck more heat , saliva pouring from the edges of my mouth on every inch of skin on your dick, so that you hear me even better, join together with lightness and thickness, you get a sudden shiver to a close, the scratch of the teeth and tongue and pulse that devours you, touch you and talk about a miracle that is still not known nothing.
The primary is watching you, how I now also saw me, she understood why your eyes so wet, so tight, revealing herself to be a woman with a fucking want to have you, to take just like I'm doing I took advantage of your weakness, so, bare to him, having opportunity to finally get everything that has so far only imagined, conceived, in the days through the mundane transparent door, or in all those moments that gravely explaining things as you would have done anything shamelessly.
will be touched between her legs now, feeling good to be wet, would want to get the fuck, you fuck with my saliva still shiny, thick face with eyes of amazement and pleasure, you with our two mouths together as pins on open wounds.
you like, I know, see it this way, each dressed professional, clear of respectability, just greedy and damn bitch, you want to take her by the hair and tell her that you will not stop, then looked into his eyes, to challenge me, to haunt me. Saying the most obscene things while I sign the meat with your fingers, alternating strongly the movements of the pelvis with those hands. You will end up an accomplice of the woman is staring at you now, it seems strange.
There, now your voice breaks. You lost control, giving up, you can not. You are on the line and I will keep it with skill. And I feel you open your legs even more, to have more, chills, lips, of jerks. You are almost ready to cum, while talking on and on, trying to keep a check that no longer belongs to you, knowing full well that you do not give a shit.
Grab the edge of the table even further by joining with the belly, you do not want me to come.
Do you want me to come, Lawrence. The sensation invades the brain, my lips and my teeth while you suck, your desire to be with his face sunk between my legs, the softness in receiving the power of the yoke from which you will not want to get rid.
want to die in me.
not you just can not think of my lips, I'll take you down so that you will not want to go back. Finally, the relief of someone who took the floor, you revive.
I know you'd be staring into the eyes now. As you leave late, and I let myself get started.
If you are sensitive to what I think now, how vulnerable I feel like crying.
While I'll enjoy breaking the tension that so far has made you mad. From under the table that made this surreal image of me, or has a well marked. With this atmosphere
now a little 'a bit languid' vinous, and the meeting ended and everyone leaving the room, slowly, mixed between the trivial and curiosity.
You still here, docile and ensnared the black plastic chair, stiff as much as your legs. Your cock out. If
until recently was there or not there ...
What changes, Lorenzo.
As the last leaves the room you down under the table, you can not find anyone.
Maybe they are just more in the. Maybe behind your back to blow lightly on the neck. Warn my perfume. In the scan of a second.
you redial, softly, before the casino riaccomodare you've done on the floor.
drops you into the air, on my lips, I ran a finger over his mouth, as if to silence me ... 'ssshhh', giving you back the hug.
charge forwarded depths, lost in the inevitable.
----------------------------------------------- -------
Meanwhile, it rains. It's raining outside and the sun penetrates the sky.
drenching rains of breath.
I do not want to forget to invent defects. Never.
I will not forget. And it rains
dense, wet also unaffected by rain god.
Drops-lava. Burn ... burn as fuck.
Give me fire Give me dark red, tremors, that's what you, sighs, bruises, my soul lost in your mouth, you're on delirium as dust and blood, watermark Luminal, peace and revolt, if not the table, maybe it would have been a mirror, ready to think in amazing visions, or a carpet on which wear out the knees thrust force, maybe a sink of a bathroom, where to put my wrists under the water and give relief.
Maybe it was simply a piece of heart. Or More. Where better to slip between the sheets. Meanwhile
rains. Joy-tears broken, tired, and best trick in a riot, better than a tangle of fairy tales upside down. While the world
absently chews apnea. While
leave me, sweet, in this corner of disruption.
Inexorably. Do not back up.
EYO & angie
horizontal light Those days, when it rains with the sun. Among the shadows of the clouds and trees in the gardens. When the individual You can see the color of the water drops, and it makes you smile for no reason.
They'll tell you that the train passes only once, that what you lost was the last. But I do not believe it is not true, I'm sad shit from people. I spend plenty of trains, Angie, until you want to climb it and go, go. Under a sky
absurd, Irish, my pace on the streets of this desert town, regardless of the drops that wet my clothes, not a soul around, narrow and lit bar, even if it is day, and the hills with the vineyards in the background. And tens of invisible people, here is where are all those who, behind every closed door, under every sign, crowded the benches, through transparent stained glass: a glass of wine, shouting in a thick, talking about trains and stations. Who would want to change, who is still traveling, who should leave. Again.
wine in the air, that if they can smell and the thrill. Inside the nostrils, skin, all the heavy feelings that take me in the stomach, suggestive of descent, the heart that unbridled heat.
When winter I got on your train without knowing it, on the fly, black coat and his hands on the handles to avoid falling, moving among the passengers that they let me go, in the bend of the race on the sidewalk.
look into your eyes and find yourself sitting there, beyond the book you were reading.
----------------------------------------------- -------
is not an easy situation, Angie.
Whether you there or not there is, in this large table, where we all sit for the meeting on Tuesday, does not really matter.
With all the noise they heard in those random moments of collective silence at the end where someone always says all fucked up and feel.
This time it was fucked up but a zip. That of my pants. And I, hm hm, to clear my throat, to cover the noise.
So now, the dancing began, Angie.
I'm talking about. I answer questions from colleagues, explain, put things in a row. I know that you like putting your fingers in your mouth and make me say bad words.
I have a firm voice, instead. Can not do it to break. I have a firm voice and his hard cock, Angie, and your lips wet to climb. How the hell do you let me come so hard, just with your breath on the flap open?
hate this power you have, and you'll have an easy life. You know.
God, it's terrible to try to resist your lips, at the risk of breaking a pencil in my hand. I'm debating. I'm telling my own, okay? A social worker who shoots shit. We also want someone to contradict a social worker who shoots shit, and fucking with her husband once every three months, and it shows very well.
What if they knew what they're doing to me is the hair-raising and the tips of her breasts, Angie. And he should be with hard nipples and disgusted and offended face.
Everything inside, of course. Do you like me all in, feel, taste, shape and texture of my bird. Think what you like makes me want to let me come and go, right away, so, like an animal. But woe to the world.
There is a need of my attention here. If I ask a question I must answer. Other than give in to this insane desire to pull up from the table in front of everyone, and you will see her breasts, and kiss your lips that know me, until the agony and the skin becomes red and sweaty, fuck off.
Fuck you, Angie, as you are good with your mouth. For all the thoughts that make me think about how you have learned. On cocks you sucked, yes. How did you find that you like caress with your tongue and tease with his teeth and feel like you harden the climax when you impose on yourself.
Luckily others are talking about now. One event that I do not follow me. Fortunately, because now you're making the most fearful, you're licking it slowly as you can, inch by inch meat sucked and tortured. With those feelings so powerful and uncontrollable that you can not ignore. You know it, because I'm good to ignore feelings and pretend nothing has happened? E 'for what you love to take me up to this point.
Tap again to talk to me, is a miracle that I did not notice anything because all the muscles of the chest contracts and you're a bastard. And you know it. Swallow, I said what I had to say. There is another which I respond, says his, and I will speak again when he finished. The primary, with his blue eyes wide open, staring at me. The sound strange, sure. God you make me do, Angie.
Torture is this true, and I know every movement, every secret. Some strokes can kill, easily. To me this is not the juice with force, with that back-and-forth between the lips of the chapel quickly as women do sometimes. Go very slowly, he savored each small segment. And I can not but feel more, I fuck the merger. Lightness that draws attention, a spirit that is running out, without the slightest glimmer escape.
Christ, yes, you've already won, you're fucking soul, and you just the lips, that's what you are.
I break the voice as I speak now. I give up, to speak normally. I can not. I'm too on edge, and you know tenermici, I hate you. And while I think I hate you, spreading her legs, begging for me to take it all, because it is a pleasure, and bad as well, I shudder. I startled the fuck you in the mouth, ready to cum, and I'm here to talk about other things, the things that I do not care. The primary
looks into my eyes and then drops his eyes to the belly, planted against the edge of the table. Can not you understand what's going on underneath, and my legs stretched wide apart and that you take me to the inevitable and make me feel I belong to who and what you can flush draw, for giving me everything, for me to pieces in total defeat.
Do not make me come now, Angie, please. Let me come
, Angie. Do not keep me so, I am dying to cum inside. The feeling of your inner lips between my teeth, while the sap and shoot, my head between your thighs. Their soft elastic, thick, twin pavilions of meat.
Diocristo, fuck off.
Yes, they are watching me. I get along, fuck you think. Finish the sentences, the breath goes away on its own, but I say what I had to say, even if my brain is empty.
Maybe someone has understood and is silent. I'm blushing. More I think more and turn red. The more I think about your lips on the chapel and more would die in you.
It 's impossible not to think about your lips, not distracted, take me deeper and deeper, I have.
I have barely time to wait for the others' attention wander for a moment, somebody else takes the floor. I could not wait a second longer, I can now let me finish.
Now I can prepare myself to orgasm as when you stiffen the whole body before going to slam into an accident. I'd stare in her eyes, as they are, you know?
you like my eyes as the pleasure that you know me I fuck the mind and semen out of me.
ends the meeting and the others get up and go, one by one. I remain alone, always the same sitting, half body under the table, sprawled on plastic chair with his legs stiff and open, and the bird out.
I wonder if there were or were not there, Angie, with me. The last one leaves the room and down with me under the table, there are none.
I wonder if you were really here, maybe you slipped somewhere, you're still here. Your scent. I would refer
pants, opened the flap and went down to half. And I'll go get a towel to clean the mess on the floor under this table, the drops of semen that I have scattered in the air, helpless, lost in the inevitable.
----------------------------------------------- -------
I like to put in difficult situations, Lorenzo.
mess that your air compact that your savoir-faire that can numb a god. And now you're here, groped to sit in an appropriate compound for the meeting on Tuesday, I know I'll enjoy to give participants an awareness that perhaps you have never seen or felt. I also know that you opporrai by any means, trying not to let you go, trying to keep that professional tone that marks you, with eyes focused on business events that will compete in the semi-open blouse or your colleague who sits almost in front of you, however, to remind you that you are a man and that the eye wants its fucking part, and not just for spreadsheets report to be presented.
Now I will start dancing.
I hear you speak, your voice is smooth, the subtle looks of indifference that others may become more dense as you take on opponents in arguments, exhibiting a sort of lineup, you want to be well understood before anyone says the same old shit.
The sound of the zip does not remain in the background, even the chatter.
My hands will not stop, you know.
I will leave that to follow the path of your pants legs up in the middle, is knowing your cock gently. Here, I do not have time to brush that is already hard, even though you try to resist my lips, starting with a slight movement, the contours of your chapel, along the skin. And I admit that it would be extremely enjoyable, as you talk, put your fingers in his mouth, rotate them, muffling all the words, press on the palate, it comes out and crushed on the lips, letting you take the unusual twist. Your voice is still strong for now, not 'signs of slowing down, but you know it will not last.
I love this power I have and I love the fact that then I will not have an easy life.
It 's amazing to hear the case, as you try to resist, threatening to take away the thoughts that crowd my mind you really like flip this fucking table around which each character is floating in unnaturalness of its size, and get there before them, saying truly yours, what do you like fuck, how would you break through the mouth and then her ass, than I like to put bent to ninety seeing my tits dangle consisting , taking me by the hair, alternating pressures in the body and brain. This
think, stare while the social worker says that crap, if he knew that what I'm doing her pussy instantly gets wet, threatening to stain his white suit fine gauze.
And maybe it would be too disgusted with the face, dropping the hint of being offended. Knowing in fact not at all. Meanwhile
you inside me, everything I like die by sucking, feeling it swell in her mouth asking another space, looking for the throat, I like to lick the chapel riaffondare and then suddenly, just when you answer a few more stubborn interlocutor, while trying to break away from the pleasure you're screwing up the belly and the head and just can not.
Just fuck me I know now. Why do we need your attention there, god bono, because I can not contradict your skill so simply ignore feelings, bring up to this point ...
touches you speak again, I still rage, you suck more heat , saliva pouring from the edges of my mouth on every inch of skin on your dick, so that you hear me even better, join together with lightness and thickness, you get a sudden shiver to a close, the scratch of the teeth and tongue and pulse that devours you, touch you and talk about a miracle that is still not known nothing.
The primary is watching you, how I now also saw me, she understood why your eyes so wet, so tight, revealing herself to be a woman with a fucking want to have you, to take just like I'm doing I took advantage of your weakness, so, bare to him, having opportunity to finally get everything that has so far only imagined, conceived, in the days through the mundane transparent door, or in all those moments that gravely explaining things as you would have done anything shamelessly.
will be touched between her legs now, feeling good to be wet, would want to get the fuck, you fuck with my saliva still shiny, thick face with eyes of amazement and pleasure, you with our two mouths together as pins on open wounds.
you like, I know, see it this way, each dressed professional, clear of respectability, just greedy and damn bitch, you want to take her by the hair and tell her that you will not stop, then looked into his eyes, to challenge me, to haunt me. Saying the most obscene things while I sign the meat with your fingers, alternating strongly the movements of the pelvis with those hands. You will end up an accomplice of the woman is staring at you now, it seems strange.
There, now your voice breaks. You lost control, giving up, you can not. You are on the line and I will keep it with skill. And I feel you open your legs even more, to have more, chills, lips, of jerks. You are almost ready to cum, while talking on and on, trying to keep a check that no longer belongs to you, knowing full well that you do not give a shit.
Grab the edge of the table even further by joining with the belly, you do not want me to come.
Do you want me to come, Lawrence. The sensation invades the brain, my lips and my teeth while you suck, your desire to be with his face sunk between my legs, the softness in receiving the power of the yoke from which you will not want to get rid.
want to die in me.
not you just can not think of my lips, I'll take you down so that you will not want to go back. Finally, the relief of someone who took the floor, you revive.
I know you'd be staring into the eyes now. As you leave late, and I let myself get started.
If you are sensitive to what I think now, how vulnerable I feel like crying.
While I'll enjoy breaking the tension that so far has made you mad. From under the table that made this surreal image of me, or has a well marked. With this atmosphere
now a little 'a bit languid' vinous, and the meeting ended and everyone leaving the room, slowly, mixed between the trivial and curiosity.
You still here, docile and ensnared the black plastic chair, stiff as much as your legs. Your cock out. If
until recently was there or not there ...
What changes, Lorenzo.
As the last leaves the room you down under the table, you can not find anyone.
Maybe they are just more in the. Maybe behind your back to blow lightly on the neck. Warn my perfume. In the scan of a second.
you redial, softly, before the casino riaccomodare you've done on the floor.
drops you into the air, on my lips, I ran a finger over his mouth, as if to silence me ... 'ssshhh', giving you back the hug.
charge forwarded depths, lost in the inevitable.
----------------------------------------------- -------
Meanwhile, it rains. It's raining outside and the sun penetrates the sky.
drenching rains of breath.
I do not want to forget to invent defects. Never.
I will not forget. And it rains
dense, wet also unaffected by rain god.
Drops-lava. Burn ... burn as fuck.
Give me fire Give me dark red, tremors, that's what you, sighs, bruises, my soul lost in your mouth, you're on delirium as dust and blood, watermark Luminal, peace and revolt, if not the table, maybe it would have been a mirror, ready to think in amazing visions, or a carpet on which wear out the knees thrust force, maybe a sink of a bathroom, where to put my wrists under the water and give relief.
Maybe it was simply a piece of heart. Or More. Where better to slip between the sheets. Meanwhile
rains. Joy-tears broken, tired, and best trick in a riot, better than a tangle of fairy tales upside down. While the world
absently chews apnea. While
leave me, sweet, in this corner of disruption.
Inexorably. Do not back up.
EYO & angie
Chefmate Mini Refrigerator
down the curtain.
down from the stage. We consume
eyes forced to look beyond the costumes, the faces you dig in thick strokes of hands pretentious.
There comes a time when the going gets tough.
It is not enough to know that the mouth is full only because his cock is driving without giving armistice.
And not just after an orgasm groped breathing awareness.
Everything comes out, the soul as well, and that's tough, by God.
Gap thighs, impaling me on this thought and not say a word, let alone who enter
a glimmer of light through the shutters, or even that leaves his clothes on the floor, not ricomporti. We
mushy with each other and chaos that surrounds. String. Desecrate.
sublime situation, however. Of those who steal the soul mixed streams of semen. I let the saliva
try to slide down his throat, damn slow, seems to have the power to become the 'cutter'.
Good taste of blood, slipping down better than a good wine left out of the fridge.
wave injected into the agglomerations of the belly, revealing in a fucking knot in my stomach, I had not even eaten raw steak without throwing a bone.
What effect does that, right? And despite the leaden ball, I want to suck. Christ.
And then I will come for what they are, so that will be stronger than any feeling, any bond.
and lower the shutter completely, closing his eyes. Your hands in his pockets (ready to make every moment, dilatation), twin planets of meat in amazement.
lower the blinds of this room hard.
So you make me feel like a slut and a goddess.
(Ed came a child with his hands in his pockets and a green ocean
behind
said, "I wonder, how big is the green
how beautiful the sea, how long a room is
too long I look at the sun, made me sick ")
F. De Andrè
Aerobic Instructor Costumes
She hides her face in her arms.
body on him, injured air.
Orme latex, sublime film, reappears in the waves asunder
screen and does not know that it is so cold.
repeatedly cold.
He turns back, show your ass, in my mind flash, sounds sharp,
seems like yesterday, it seems possible, translucent.
yet that would back my recordings being with walkways
violarossi each thrust of his fingers, and my mouth just say nothing, in other
busy, multifaceted. bite. Delicata then.
Saliva mixed fading. Bruises brain. In a round of tango
sway suspension. While he
, lazy sharpness, eagerness to disappear. Sit in the tunnel
opaque. That
nipple, suck it. Flushed to waste under vacuum.
it burn from pressure in passing. Teeth.
And yes, you bend from the discomfort of a position.
Labbradipelle on the mouth, clear direction, not daring to break away.
What is it?
soft curve of the road, eyes, film.
surreal perspective. What
. Among
vapor mist, still mysteries.
I could not make up my mind, now, between visions of me in the folds of those sheets
and sweaty fingers on the verge of a 'play', to give impetus to infections undecided.
I could not understand, now, between you and a trunk in the echo of you are tired. I wonder if
. Lawful.
While you call 'collage' what makes you spare yourself. I would like to tell you exact words. In
face sounds. Looks in my ears.
contamination in the gorge.
not stop at appearances, slowly stroking the outline of a dilated silence, I let
...
do not die of neglect. It breaths taken away in shards of liquid mist.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)