Personal Statement For A Hygienist

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.

Cubefield App For The Ipod

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.