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You opened your mouth, a thin stream of red wine ran from the jug.
Then I began to pour it over your body with the same thin stream, licking the sweet, heady drops.
I sank at your feet.

Starting to kiss you from the feet, rising to the hips and above.
I began to kiss your crotch pouring wine pubis, so that it flows there.
My tongue felt the taste of wine and the taste of you, combining it into the sweetest cocktail in the world.
From tenderness and pleasure thighs tremble.
Your fingertips pressed into silk sheets, lips whispered again and again.
You pulled me to her and laid me on my back.
Then she got up and went off somewhere.
When you came back to me in your hands you had your shackles, you wore them not your neck, but you put the end of the chain in my hand.
I’ll be forever yours, smiling you said.
You sat on me and started kissing my breasts.
When you got to my excited member you poured it not with wine, but honey.
And she began to lick the sweet nectar of bees, bringing me bliss.
You caressed him until I pulled the chain.
You looked at me languidly, realizing that it was time to move from desserts to the main dish of the night.
With a smile, you settled on me.
Starting the rhythm of the Arabian night.

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Your moans were like oriental music.
We hung in the balance from death and killed for this pleasure.
() Passion captivated us like a zindan.
We drowned in carnal excitement, circling in satisfaction and sweetness.
The secret of the Arabian night was hidden behind the windows.
In our bedroom there was a secret of pleasure.
Gentle, sensual, heartfelt, passionate, desirable, maddening.
Shackled with shackles on your neck.
Toying me with a chain in my hand.
Hot as the desert.
Until I fooled, I caressed your body.
And even though the shackles were on you, you forever captivated me.
Sheikh’s concubine is the love of an assassin.
The movements were sharp, penetrating like a scimitar entering the flesh of the enemy.
We cut our souls with love and pleasure.
The groans turned into music of love, the rhythm of the movements intensified until, at its peak, our consciousness was covered with ecstasy.
For several days we did not leave the bedroom until our bodies, exhausted from caress, had weakened.
But our desire like thirst in the desert has not been quenched.
We lived happily ever after.
I taught you to kill, you taught me to love.
I woke up.
Again, the same ceiling.
You are not around.
Sadness rolled over me in a wave.
I should have seen you.
I was waiting you.
My whole life was in anticipation of our short meetings.
It became unbearable.
Sun glare from the window moved on the ceiling and walls telling me that it was lunch time soon, which means you would be back soon.
It only remained

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to look at the door, to listen to the noise of the footsteps, to wait for the door knob to turn, and into my chamber again it would light up your appearance, like a supernova explosion in the black space. Talk to someone online about sex.

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