Attaching Slate To Wall

愛 メッセージ

Vasile

A thousand times have you tried my eyes a thousand times and have found them. A kind of dance fever at the very idea of \u200b\u200bwhat your whim.

You had to do it now, get close, block your view and do what he wanted.

"My sweet little girl, come on, against the wall," and I accompanied her at the point where my knees were opened, including a leg and a expanse, revealing the satisfaction of a passage.

the tone of your voice you gave up, "... from Owner," you muttered something, a message from the Lord in an English tenderly trailing a bit hesitant 'on vocals. You kept staring, eyes incredibly bright, and with a slowness that you already know, woman-faced girl, you've done away with one hand under her dress.

fascinated with the air, you close your eyes a little, turning up to show the point at which a finger to abuse you.

Little Women, mulberry-scented, with a violence ripping sound of the words continued to stare at while your hand trapped decomposed the features of your face like a shadow.

I had no possibility to reach, bend down on your belly and posarvi cheek, as so often touching you with his tongue. It was amazing how two or three steps had become unbridgeable distance. Semidistesa on the mat, I was able to swing up, all around was wonderful explosion of hemp: white rope, honor our Kinbakushi.

strings resembled to our lives, plots that had been fraying through a mixture of pain and tenderness. The finishing touches nodes had acute precision of a belt of rope that explored the depths, where it sank, the meat was more tender and dark, slowly, every meter rope as if it were stroked your hand. In my deliberate renunciation understood the romance of misery, looking at the tip of my left foot and pivoting saw me stress, I could barely swing myself.

With one leg visibly apart, tied to a bamboo pole, and the other bent, it enhances the strength of a sensual jete on a snapshot. My bust stood, upright, supported by a second stick for a h Ashira ushirodaki trembling flame of your desire. A graceful flower arrangement that only the wind would have decomposed the motion.

We learned the language of every little instinctively drawn ideogram, we spoke a silent language that can disrupt a life.

Only the rustle of swaying tension in the air, impenetrable, lighter than anything, until I flock in a whisper, "you have no message. You you the message. "

In front of his eyes, reaching the bottom of things, my voice low and warm your looking for.

You

bent his head toward the ground and your lips have held a smile.

He seemed to do the best thing in the world, provided me with such conviction that reality seemed upset. There was a moment suspended, in which everything was possible, but you were the only one that could cross the space between us.

kissing, then you have broken the barrier. Your tongue has touched mine. Gently, at first. Then you made when dragged off on my body, beset with a transport that allows anything, I felt myself melt. You were full of the taste of him, a sour aroma and stun that kept us glued mingled cream and saliva, groans and sighs.

you glide over my body, deeper and deeper, until sex, I've opened. Rummaging through the rope and cranny you insinuated his tongue, his hand slipped and I knew there was something that went beyond the air that you were missing, I knew, you were suddenly secure. Play with your belly sticking his fingers, and swallowed bevevi from my cup and I knew, beyond the breath, your heart was crazy.

We were two women, but one body, a single fluid.

Floating saturated enjoyment of pleasure when you come over us. It took a few calibrated movements because they soak your hands. Sex against sex, breast against breast, mouth to mouth, a code instinctive released all restraint and inhibition. We were both the echo of your voice.

(A and Michael K., September 2007)