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And how if there's more I miss the aroma

Prologue and two .


And no that is not over.

My new friend went on to play for fun - rolling the dice and upping the ante.
We met for a whole night.
But not before making her sweat homework.
Three bands of satin, at least four centimeters tall had to collect.
had to choose the music that he wanted.
And a necklace of pearls. Great, I asked.
Then the first course I had happy hour. For uninhibited, I thought.
But there was none was needed. So I decided to take her to bed right away.
Moving from sushi, but without taking the 20,000 lire.
Why waste time making sounds to communicate with the mouth, when you could also add messages thighs, sighs, buttocks, hands, the looks, the body heat and humidity of the tongue in search of something.
Most importantly, the desire to satisfy all our pleasure.
to be my dish for sushi. What with so much soy sauce and wasabi, that plucks the private parts but not distract. A bandage
be one of the bands, let put on all fours, getting tied her wrists and ankles with the other, and getting fucked by an insatiable fury. My hands on her hips and screwing her mercilessly. Receive it without being able to resist. Even when stuck his fingers in the mouth, which she expertly sucks and cuddles.
ancestral male power - as it should be.
to enjoy it for who knows how many times, by both parties without shame.
to use the pearl necklace to pass one by one, slowly but inexorably, as the worst of torture, the enlarged clitoris infoiati from the mind of the victim hope that the row would never end. That the pressure is strong army, yes, but not enough to ruin the game, breaking the string that holds the row of balls that excite so much, but do not ever come.
to drink the nectar that distinguishes it from the inside and the wet.
to suck my member with good taste, almost as if he liked most about her. A
drive nails in the ass to march as one does with the animals. Already
animals. Time goes by and stops, while our bodies in unison animated blend and mingle in a concert animal. Ask and
have. No restrictions. Do not worry. No limits.
front, below, behind.
remissimiva A little, but that's okay for once - why is my and I do not run away.
hours of play, of lust, of harmonious embrace.
until physical collapse. What
next to each other.
to sleep for the rest of the night.
And then to wake up to discover just want to do yet.
finally conclude with an innocent breakfast anonymous, including looks strong, and a kiss stolen on the stairs of the office, a thousand emotions and stunning outbuildings.
As someone told me long ago: Who says you can not do a good fuck with a friend?
I enjoy the past and get ready for the next.
happy rebirth.
And live happily waiting.

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The aroma of sex.
sex female in heat. What
wet slips.
And that does not ask, demand.
Everything else is in black and white.

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coitus interruptus

So how come and gone.
again. Far
.
As if the show was over, the empty stage, the excitement faded. She
. That time I had
given. Reborn from the ashes. Value to new things, finance trivial, but real and necessary.
And now she's gone away, even if she knows will come back.
The last meal was also boring, granted.
Had it not been for that nasty look, if I did not know what we could do the nymphomaniac, I would really doubt remained.
coitus interruptus. Why
after going on a tangent, back on earth, heaven topped with flashes of mischief, has disappeared again.
Yet it seems to me that sexual intercourse was interrupted and never finished.
I may be nostalgic, but I get the impression that there is more to say.
Usually I'm not mistaken. In all cases I
miss my Skianto.
That insatiable desire for cock. The look that speaks without sound. The magnetic smile.
I want her, his smell, his warmth.

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In fact there's more

Prologue.

"Big, huge, useless" - it was my first thought when I gave the rental car.

I've always hated those cars imparcheggiabili.
Grey mouse then faded as the gray autumn.

This is the machine where we made love.
Four seats.
A car is long and wide.
be completed.
I wonder if a car has the memories? Of the thousands of miles, hundreds of aims, dozens of hugs, tens of sighs, of the words spoken and those left unsaid.

happy hour before had brought us, among the shit and smiles between the words and looks.
wine for her, beer for me.
A head for now we just uninhibited, to feel embarrassed when we see the couple kissing in front of giggling, so that he said "sorry". One
where before there were six scrolls.

And then she led us to sgranicchiare something, as if we knew where we were going to end, as if we were to steal the peak time of the evening. As if there
infliggessimo a masochist discipline, but we liked so much. Always

her, the machine the occupants of the moment, in silence without speaking neither of us neither of the couples who had preceded us. Muta, thinking to keep the secret, so open to passers-by, so obvious from the outside.

My companion was shy when I was saying things directly, he was hesitant when the uncomfortable on purpose, because everything had to be except boredom. He was not shy when we started kissing like teenagers, the only car in the street that night where they washed the pavement.

was not shy at all when I opened the zip, I pulled it out and then how to hide it in the world if you put everything in their mouths, button, incredulous, but decent, and began to suck it seemed like it was not for some time. With taste, that rascal! Savoring the bumps of the veins. Dwelling where he was. Pace and discretion. The

undid his jeans: the thong made me even more pumped blood.
I touched his hands smeared with honey.

The air is perfumed cabin of our aroma.
flavor uncontrollable urge of sex to enjoy, indulge in what comes without prejudice.

We were too visible, too awkward, too infoiati. There
onward moved to another place: we went to a secluded spot, but the discomfort was still there.
"What do we do?" I asked knowing the answer.
"Let's go back," she said pointing to the back seat, and blushing, while the final sentence was lost in shame.

We moved.
We undressed.
Finally his body.
Beautiful, by touching every inch, to explore everything.

moods, smells, sigh, kiss, touch, caress.
all together.
canceling the rest.
creating our island of lust.

He sat on me.
I took the butt, round, firm, finally pink white.
With a touch of black - a loincloth, half wet, half lost among the hard ass.
She sank in herself, began to move the pelvis, regardless of what I could think of.
I put a finger in the butt, unsanitary, perhaps, but certainly wonderful for both.

I was.
was.
But not before I felt that I was using.
convenient for his pigs.
taste my cock to its full length.
Slowly, with a twist at the tip, then slowly again.
Closing my eyes, as she was alone on the island.
Up and down, up and down.
Clutching the back seat between hands when it turned white made me realize that was coming.

The next day the car was returned.
Empty. Cold
.
with its load of memories.
Its weight of responsibility.

And although it was clean hands unaware, however, some of us thought.
Of how we had made from animals. Of how the
sighs echoed in unison.
of how our sex so they fit together naturally.
Of how angry we were very merry.

"Little, tiny, very useful" was my first thought when I thought about everything that had happened.

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no moral, no plan, no mercy

When you least expect it. When
just do not think about it. And when you dare
winning unexpectedly.

The charm of the things that happen spontaneously, without ulterior motives.
And you feel walking in chest swollen, bloated feeling that overflow of the fire in his veins.
The energy that permeates you and that makes you fly and never make you crash.

not to come, I was assured that there would not make it.
me I heard them I planted those blue eyes on me the day before, when he spoke timid about everything and nothing, even though the message was clear: that smile was not lying, that hair screaming scarlet desire to let go.


It was submitted by surprise, when my defenses were down.
Just when my head was spinning already after the first beer, because I knew it that night to find serenity in spite of the many people known to oleare inhibitions and let go, surpassing every word, every gesture.

When you put in front of me, piercing eyes, was stored with smiles, I spoke with the entire body. And I do not let up for a moment.
The second beer was in my hands, the lights gave rhythm to the music.
colorless background in a river full of tattoos and faded eyes.

There were others, the talk among the hotels, boring.
Among those others who Shagged Me, but you and I already felt the taste of the skin of the other.

However, the only contact was the glass, naively accepted. As a gesture
was granted, but full of meaning.
Especially when changing hands. With small strokes.

The rhythms were getting louder but more and more silent.
"I go to the bathroom but did not disappear" I tell her ear Having danced with weightless, minutes that took away our real time to communicate.
"Even I have to go," she says, then opening your mouth slightly as if to add something. But without doing so.

He always went in pairs with his girlfriend.
"Do not spring for a moment, eh?"
"Unfortunately not," he said.
"I want to kiss you," ventured the fifth beer but perfectly master.
Dare to achieve.
surprises for cause. Exchanging
beer touching your fingers.
speaks to rubbing her arm. Look
fondling her feet. Faced
standing among a thousand eyes, you know, the pace that never tires, the music that makes you scream in your ears, the pit of sweaty bodies moving talking sex.
"Me too," he said with his mouth and eyes.

Power.
ancestral power of the male, who guides and leads, which inexorably draws its prey into the trap. Error-free, step by step, Peipus the doors to avoid going backwards. That
trap due to the myriad of messages does not come in and makes her escape.
Without forcing it, but making them want to be kidnapped.

kidnapped and held.
"I do not see your friend, we try?".
"Sure, let's go."
I follow, I put my hand on the side and shake. She slows down: "There is not even here."
"Let's go even further, "I say firmly seizing the belt from behind to let her know that I possess. It feels tight basin, merges, closing his eyes and sighing when my lips on his neck write dizziness soft. E 'arms and did not escape.
May I ask what I want because that's what dying to do.

Kisses sweet and beautiful. Exciting. Exploring the soul sobs.
Chills salted, emotional, hormonal discussions.
That body gave up the my mercy. Used but not abused.
My body at its disposal, for his pigs comfortable.
The minutes pass, as we were teenagers, distracted from one another, but without knowing in sync.
Bello, free, powerful.

Finally back in elegant society. Palpate the front of the others, without being seen. Accomplice
the dark. Cunning accomplice.
a cold shiver.
The feeling of warmth that only those who are horny inside can try.
the leave of absence, longing for the act, on his knees for a slow orgasm.
A spontaneous play, without rules, but surprisingly run as one because here the rules are not necessary.
A whisper in the ear by a discussion between several people, a witness dell'arsura threat: "Stop or I will not stop."
"I stop, but does not end here."

Respect and lust. Five of
morning. Several beers. Everything is under control, except the head turning, the hands that move by themselves, the words that come without a blush, the erection wind that is not ashamed in the dark and his incessant explore.

Felice. Free.
Free as I was. I

of inches of air under your feet, now I pull the handle of the door and go outside to prepare for what's to come.

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I only see a blank monitor

often I look at this blank screen, afraid to go to bed.

I want to vent, but all I see are my fingers caressing the keys in vain inert. Nn or even more willing to describe this apathy.

will be the approach of "I want" instead of "I love you."
will be that little bit of inertia is not proactive, that kills every fantasy.
There's a nasty world out there, calling me.
And I clean the world from my listening, but I do not go up there.

ticking the raindrops on the roof, mark the time lost that you can not recover more.
The feelings that accompany the desideio go numb, because nobody encourages more.
better to burn out faster in well rather than to fade away.
"This no."
"Not so."
Tired of asking.
Tired of not letting go.
Tired of not doing so dirty.
E 'indifference that kills desire.

The knowledge that you do not play anymore.
For now.
The desire to change players.
The desire to play dirty.
Without rules.
So as it comes. Who is.

Hope to see hands painted red to cover my slowing ticking along on your keyboard to turn them away from this monitor yet. For me to be abducted by a flurry of excitement.

Where the raindrops is the pace, not the passage of time.

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The swamp of lust

The search of the pleasures of reality breaks Olympic unfinished erotic imagination.
Not that boring, that clean.
sex is something dirty.
I'm not dead meat

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Time kills

One. Two
. Three
.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Otto.
Nine.
Ten.
Eleven.
Twelve. Thirteen
. Fourteen
. Fifteen
.
Sixteen.
Seventeen. Eighteen
. Nineteen
. Twenty
. Twenty
.

That is, I have sex but I am forced to fast.

Twenty.
long to type.
boring to read. Endless
living.
Twenty days without food.

are hectic and disorganized, but I can keep things moving.
As the artist is always to turn Chinese dishes, I'll turn things around me without them fall into oblivion.

grit and determination.
Although hyperactive, survive and not get bored.
But there is a problem.
Peace. The quiet.
I can not find it.
Except in one way: the rich plateau of sex, the culmination of hedonistic pleasure.
Experience ultimate rule, which allows me to do the rest go smoothly.
experience of which I need to feed it, greedily.

Twenty-one days of abstinence is difficult.

alter my state of mind, shatters my balance, the good will crumble.
And you leave empty, full of anger.
Anger that pushes you to be a hunter. Like animals. As you can. You do not stop even when you arrive at the Twenty-second day, when the counter is cleared.

Time kills.

Curse of the Twenty-second placebo day.

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I'm on a roller coaster. It does not stop.

At the end of the coffee I'm done.
alone.
I turned off the lights outside, who needs more.
I removed the CD Lorenzo, she likes so much.
I removed the gray pants, the ones that excite.
The beard made me I am not at all.
The gel will accompany me to bed. The messenger can return
visible, no one would interrupt me.
I removed the cushions from the sun lounger, which is watering the lawn tonight. I turned off
the phone, now no longer call.

mad and basking.

yet told me he would pass.
will be an unexpected success, or just a normal.
These stories are sometimes so clandestine transgressions, as disappointing.
I like to break the mold though.
If you can not even come and tell me, so be it. Without
paranoia.
Just as would happen if I came here.
to stop the flow of sweet boredom alone.
With that hint of instability, which carry with you. What
but I really like that always makes me excited.
Although I have not seen.
Although nothing would have happened if I been here.
But this is nice to live here but to be on another planet.
And stay positive.

I'll make a glass of milk.
I lose in its pale color, which makes me think of you.

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Rediscovering the animal in you, in black and pink

shapes and colors. Take

synapses in clusters and strings of numbness.

shapes and colors that go direct to the brain. Communicate without speaking.

shapes and colors, but also size and position.

And so after delay, hesitation, diffidence, tattooed there.

"You choose where to put it," he said.

"Here, you see and not see." In daily menage meant.

But you see well in the menage to two: when you're four feet, and the sharp pattern blends with the curves of your body.

And so that afternoon he undressed, lay on the bed, the only mirror in front of the room. He put his hands first, then the elbows.

Finally passed his hand with her nails painted red pork until it touches.

As if I did not exist, as if they were her true before me, the other reflected that every time I looked.

different harmony rose, with that wonderful black tattoo that goes with the color of the shoes, whose heels horizontal pointing straight at me. A show

to enjoy, a story to tell. Until
, confused by his wild side, I decided to write my final.
What made slow movements, one that alternates between the gentle caresses, the rape of the blonde locks to be used as a wheel in the mad rush toward orgasm.

Desire, passion and use of the body.
The aim is not to arrive, but travel. Travel
in the world of lust, infoiati smell of sex, biting her lip.

that of the face, and those in the dark union of his legs.


Godo without being satisfied, so why do I still have.

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prologue and epilogue, the story does not matter

Prologue:

"are super, you qulcosa? "reads the text message.
" that you buy a nutella spreads over the clitoris and lick you all the "my counters.
" stupid, do not you know that you do not eat chocolate in summer? "the answer ' last.
toward the exit, go back, I rush to the supermarket.
hormones tell me that I can not wait, I feel the tide of lust drag me away.
I do not want to eat chocolate. I want to lick. Upon you. On his
trigger of mystical ecstasy, that everything moves as if by magic, despite fatigue, despite the distractions, to make her cry in silence.
Parking, run, retrieve the jar.
smug and proud arrival as the one who wins the marathon, smiling, sicuro.
Sventolo il trofeo, sicuro che lei non lo avesse preso.
"Non ti avevo detto che è estate?" esclama davanti alla cassiera, che sorride imbarazzandomi.
"Ti ho spiegato a cosa CI serve", le rispondo guardandola negli occhi.

...

Epilogo:

Il barattolo l'ho finito.
Di clitoridi innutellate ovvie e scontate non ne ho viste.
Di clitoridi meno ovvie da gustare neanche.
Di cucchiai stracolmi di Nutella, mossi dalla rabbia, dalla delusione di un'altra fantasia incompiuta, ne ho visti parecchi.
Fino alla fine, fino a raschiare il bordo.
Lenti gesti che ti spengono lentamente, che ti portano ad inibirti piano piano, quelli che ti implodono dentro.
and return to the starting point.

Revenge is a cold first served.
The second is a blood lust, hot.
Lust is a warm dessert.
The important thing is to dine with the right person.
With your hands or cutlery does not matter.
The important thing is to consume.

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That pair of pants all earned

Sometimes, the unexpected becomes trash, transgression, lust.
"do not do that or else I get excited," she says.
A clear call, I think. Continue to touch the buttocks, making them feel my breath as I clouds of scent of a woman.
What do you do? Open up your thighs.
Another clear invitation.
The velvet touch of her lips, to find them unexpectedly and shiny fucking moods.
Moods of the whole body which concentrated in the slot, like a scream that wakes the ancestral animal that is in me.
"fuck," she says.
months were not asked me.
"fuck, but not you. I want the vibrator."
semesters were not asked me.
"What?" I ask in a faint voice, among the faithless, the excited and the injured.
"That giant."
I was right to keep them polished, always on service, the casket of magic toys.

I took him in hand, nothing but giant. It was worthy of a man with a capital U. A huge thing, not even the least comparable to that button and hard, I stuck between her legs. It is
masturbate for a few endless minutes.
you like you can see, I understand that even when she leaves.
Then he stops, opens his eyes, and hands him away from me. E. The
contests. she shoves it all, forward, backward.
I see her lips vibrate every time you move, and you raise your back, without shame, convinced.
Increase the frequency of vibration, and abandons the libido alone. I
by candlelight, I can not help but admire the harmony of the moment. And my challenge
tool to not be alone.
Fuck - masturbating by candlelight: I think those pants Pricing of which I spoke a few days before. If you earned them all.

A scene trash, with a hint of irony, and a lot of offense in tow. Yet the next day.

The return of the second spring, or a flash in the night?

Who cares. Though I am enjoyed. Her as well.