The rain did not give us a break. From my bed I hear the raindrops hitting on the pavement, imagining the raindrops falling apart on the concrete, impregnating reflexes, giving life to the inert mass that we observed from indifference. Meanwhile he was massage. I like my hands. Has grunt under the pillow and I remembered the day that we fought in that mall. Normal. The malls have absolutely all the ingredients to create this atmosphere of tension among the people.
hate my fits of rage. Hate my anger. This vast energy that spreads within me and reaches most perverse corners of my secrets. And it expands. Spills. I do not know how, but I feel bad host up to the throat, and there is a knot. That day was. I got nervous. I wanted to throw me to mourn of powerlessness and rage. I left.
Walking aimlessly me feel good. Order my thoughts and forces me to keep moving without having to hacernecesariamente anything. I went home on foot.
mourn wanted to vent but could not. It is strange to mourn not be done on purpose right?. To laugh or cum. It is something that happens or not, but you can not do anything by force. Nothing. Not a tear. I entered the room where I got my massage and soothing music, trying not to think about anything and ride the music to be relaxing. The lights were out. I lay on the couch. I felt like masturbating.
Yes, I know, I have many vices. Many people wonder why I like to masturbate when I have sex regularly. But it is not the same. One thing is screwed and a jerk. I clearly see the difference and I think anyone who thinks that is an inconsistency is due to a clear sexual myopia. But it is only an opinion.
had a tightness in the chest and it hurt throat. I loosened my trousers and put my hand underneath. Is almost instantaneous how my body as I play it loose. Or yoga, or tai chi or transcendental meditation, a good straw, leave a blank mind and feel your body float and feel, if you know more about God, but closer to the sky ... fixed. I love finding my pussy and she especially loves to find my gentle fingers. That warm feeling of joy, the tender ductility of my flesh softened by my lust, the aqueous perception of delight, leaving my skin that gets me, rocking me in a vague and delicious slumber.
I took off my clothes and barely touched my naked pussy and vulnerable. Touch me and looks a bit like listening to music, climb a mountain, dive. It's exciting and soothing at once. My fingers came and went flying over my naked sex, rubbing of desire, making me forget my bad mood. I think I lost track of time.
I woke her kisses. She was naked and face down. He was kissing her thighs and insisted on licking my hamstrings. Nothing makes me more bitch that I touch the knees and inner thighs. They should do workshops for learners of vanities hamstring is not it? I pretended to stay asleep. I noticed a few drops as oil fell warm on my back, the smell of lavender mixed with the pungent aroma of my sex hungry. His hand slid down my back and down my legs. I kept pretending to be asleep. I did not want to talk to him, I knew it was not necessary.
His fingers crawled over my skin with astonishing ease, thanks to oil, drowning a captivating joy, the feeling as an entity apart from him, an evil being with its own life, I would poison of desire. His fingers gently patting, pinching me, were brought into my mouth, my ass, my pussy, opening my sex, pulled him, whipped my ass or oil filled. I felt putÃsima. I began to shake your ass like a real slut and beg him to fuck me but I ordered shut up and sit still.
I got up a little ass in your hands to put myself kneeling on the bed and put mine in my face like a cushion. In this position my body lay quiet but prepared my ass in pump ready for use. With the breech open, exposed my pussy and my tits hanging, I felt ridiculous. I almost silent protest but sent me again. I felt such a chill that felt like a shot in the head.
a moment I stood in that position, I suppose looking at me, I heard him walking around me but could not see. I knew I looked and it made me feel helpless, anxious, expectant, excited. Then I felt deliberately exhaling his breath on my neck. It was as if all her breath enveloped me in its warmth. A heat sink me in my own moan. A moment later I felt a cold touch on my ass, tickling a placid that I hardly touched the buttocks and generously rushing between them. It seemed a gentle touch with a silky thin object. It was a feather.
With pen stroked my body, I touched the nipples touched my belly, running down my thighs, near my face or my lips and avoided my hot spots. I went all over that pen. I did suffer without being able to move putting it between my toes, tickled me in front of the arms, went through my neck and be entertained in the neck right at the base of the skull, bristling all over my body. I longed stirring of taste but that passed through my pussy. God, how I wanted! He knew it and so I avoided him. He continued his torturilla a little more until he decided to pose the pen between my buttocks. Di
jumped and let out a cry, so strange and exquisite pleasure. The gently slid into my slit and gently forced her to shove between lips and then remove to fresh stumbled, or I opened the pussy with his fingers, leaving my lips tight and anxious more touching, and passed it around my hole making me moan with pleasure. It was a caress so soft and so little right in the center of my sex made me shiver and feel a great desire able to pull all my meat without touching my pussy felt like doubling over the shoulder of a mountebank. Then again pass on my anus, up my spine and back to my ass, stubborn, again and again. He looked like a conductor with his wand to rule my moans.
I wanted but could not sit still, my ass had her own life, drew circles and more circles on the air hoping perhaps to find a disability .. Then, suddenly, it stopped. I knew it was useless to ask so I did not. On the corner of my eye I saw the bottle of oil reached and then I felt my pussy puddle by the dead. My whole pussy seemed to mourn greasy and greasy oil. Sex grabbed my hand and started to rub more firmly with caresses. His hand slid perfectly on my slit, seemed part of a gear set for that. Rubbing my pussy up and down, reaching my clit with each round reaching my anus and back again. I was going crazy, his whole body in tension.
While doing this I noticed a tiny air running down my back that seemed to come from his mouth. Yes, I was blown away as I rubbed her pussy rapidly. My ass was moving in unison. My groans accompanied my movements imitating some strange dance ritual.
felt
reach my orgasm. It is difficult to define but anyone can feel it coming. Sometimes it does suddenly and can not suppress. Sometimes very slowly. Other looks set to appear and, instead, comes and goes, others will not seem to never get mad if you like. Just as he felt, there, about to board my body almost within my outburst of joy, I felt I insert something in the ass. With both oil and smeared and I had a bitch who had gotten myself, into my anus without any difficulty, it was really joyous feel full and caressed her ass that way, since then crawled inside me like an arrow that would have just the target. I exploded with joy.
I blessed oil, your hands, the bloody pen, the art of putting someone bastard, I blessed my body and my head, my desire, music, my bed, his jokes, sex, and I feel like whores feel alive. Outside
still raining.
- Do you remember the day of the couch?
- Mmmmm aha - muttered as he kept making
massage I've incorporated a bit, I reached out to pick up a pen on the table impatiently waiting to play with her ...
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