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And enjoying the perfection, I admired him, when suddenly In indescribable bliss The womb opened between the lips.
And it smelled of the heat of Sizzling love.
And streams of sweet nectar Spilled out, my lips gulf.

And you are smiling slyly, You pick up all the legs, And now, all the unclenching, You approach your anus to x # u, To give Zolupa feel to him the gentle warmth, Which he is moved apart by the entrance And insert deep into him, passing his entire back.
And in this passionate intent, You x # nd sucked

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in with your mouth, To be driven to frenzy. All night he would have stood with a stake.
From these passionate kisses, He can finish even now, But he knows how longs for him And waiting for n # yes e # anya hour.
What would be the reasons, And no matter how close the orgasm was, We would drive the vagina into the depths of the vagina, So that the hour would come, When burning down from tenderness, X # nd would scoop all the walls, And gently hit your ball, Rush back to her -forward.
my hand waltzes, and syllable by word, with rhyme, rejoices and flows.
In a beautiful dance, trying to get a feather, telling you about the words of the lines about you: about the sweet face, greediness in the lips: what sparkles in your mischievous eyes.

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That in the happiness of dancing again and, from your smile, pearl rays, frolic on the teeth; Hem flutters and hand.
all thoughts, in a word, reflect, flowing from the tip of the coveted feather.
Flowing from the tip of the ink pen, paint curls on the paper, rejoicing, dancing in the headbands, reflecting the beautiful syllable of love; It rushes in a whirlwind and, whirling, draws in orderly rows, A waltz of gentle sounds and a soul.
sings, frolics and plays.
And again, flowing down from the tip of a gliding feather, thoughts tend, like a noisy-turbulent river, amorous, indulging in love.
Dedicated to Alice Rozhdestvenskaya (my red love) Today for some reason I am a little drunk And in the corridor taking off my shoes awkwardly I’ll open the bar, pour myself some wine I think that I won’t be worse Lace patterns of my beautiful undergarments are waiting Sit backwards in a chair neatly Glot wine, open my contact Aliska is offline and it is so annoying I attach to it and it is a hard fact hooper shaya brunette And knows that so soon she just won’t fall asleep Answers rudely cheeky perverts Someone will send her no stranger And remember Alice, and her heart will beat again Swallowing wine again and wait for her Light up a cigarette and just notice many secrets And updating the page, the page opens And here catches the eye, Alysonka – online! Oh! How so! Really! Put out a cigarette And fingers on the clave, and what to write to her.
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