Body language It was that white skin that made me mad.
heels of twelve red hog the slender indeed. Not that he needed: his legs were long and lungilinee, like a surrealist painting. Yet in my erotic imagination had to be there. Then put on her were really dangerously sexy.
But it was not only to drive me crazy.
were already several hours we were locked in that room of a farmhouse carefully chosen, but lost in the countryside: the perversions of the room, with its canopy of wrought iron, the vessel at the foot of the bed and those vines were the lilac perfect background. In front of the bed we had eaten the food, not because we were hungry, but because we had to feed to support games sex
practically since the door was locked and infoiati the smile turned into a noisy clash of bodies desirous of attention.
was that white skin that made me mad: go along with the tips was to get lost, see her react to pressure or heat of these was an explosion of senses and desires for both.
flirt for hours, giving vent to the expectation consumed by fantasies, desires, and a lot of frustration.
Ripresomi initial explosion, trying to pick up the pieces, including a fruit and a micro power sleep took off the belt of black leather pants thrown on the ground. She raised an eyebrow. Not that did not lend itself to any crap that my mind could think I knew that I would have stopped. From the outside it potrebbbe be timed in a trivial use of the same as usual on his body. But no. His muscle movement was anticipation for what I would do his body shortly thereafter, he knew that the belt had been bought specifically for torture her body and she really could not wait to undergo the special torture, brood Cold and designed, planned with clear and that it was folly to run as the most bastard of revenge. Too bad he was not aware of the variant. The deep state of mental instability that led me, step by step, with my fantasies readily confirmed by her nymphomania.
I took her hand and dragged her into the bathroom.
Feces resting your palms on the sink cold and hard, the exact opposite of his body. Only the light-colored
gave an element of continuity.
His body spoke to me scream dirty white, as if I was inviting, a dish served in an elegant and impeccable.
I did not resting your palms on the edge, but I pushed his hands into the sink, because that was the way to make the unique position to do so if you remember in the future. It was also great to make them really have your back horizontal was not the usual walk.
wanted a nasty look in the mirror, I look tortured pierced the lower lip. He had no hope, only I could peep, because at that time we returned back in evolution, she was the prey, the animal I am. Not that the animal possessed. That was obvious. The animal that had the keys to its future. What if he was tearing that ass that was aimed at poratat wall. that if he could incularsela blooded. What if he could humiliate her by word and deed, sure she would not have rebelled and that would allow everything. The animal that would alter the perception of playing dirty for the rest of his life. The
leaned against the open palm on his neck, then slowly but surely shook his fist so that the hair smooth first argument, now tangled and painful, to pass a clear message to his ego. She bowed her head submissive. There was no need to talk.
She was finally there, as I had imagined me in so many lonely sessions of hand, at my disposal, to serve the turbulent flow of my dark side.
Routes her body up and down with the tip of the belt in his right hand, the buckle in the left hand. It was a black snake skin wound in the luxurious jungle, looking for his lunch. The
girded his life as if it were trapped by invisible belt loops and closed tighter than I could: a small brace for a fantastic body. The white of his skin contrasted with the black belt. She knew what would happen next: he knew that my cock vrebbe the button pierced from behind and that my hands would have grasped eagerly at the expense of their blood circulation, a strip of tanned flesh of animals as a support to give a regular movement faster, but methodical in his energy. The belt
siedeva magically above the hip bones, and see if my hands pushed down, trapping her wet slit between the pivot of tough meat and the hollow of my pelvis.
rotating wrists could increase pressure on the circumference of his body, and she followed the guidance of my better moves.
continued to make me until she felt that her sex was swelling with blood and therefore she would be coming soon.
At that point, I stopped and undid my belt.
His breathing and his heart spoke eloquently of past satisfaction.
His face questioning about a future without praise.
not yet know the variant that was about to invade.
I took the tip of the belt and started to approach the mound. A variable pressure, jumping from side to side, feeling that she anticipated my every move.
He realized that what she believed was the dessert was actually the starter. The
teased until the level of lust and the desire to break out of my cock made me stay shiny, then I gave each filter and control, and I snap the side of leather hard on her clitoris.
Once, twice.
I saw her jump, her hands are always wide open on the sink, her head bent, his legs now that they could not stand still.
The contrast between the gentle pressure on the clitoris inundated with sex and pop open the belt on the thigh was comparable to that of the color of his skin with that of the belt.
Three times, four. Numerous. The black belt
changed because now it was all wet.
was time to change the registry. The
penetrated gently, I knew the hard black leather had its effect: the fucked with the belt.
was lubricated so that his body took part in harmony with that situation new, a fusion of passion with his past, his future disappointing: it was now all together, present a fulfilling life.
My perversion was finally accomplished: a belt of dirty white, a sign of our madness in love, of our imagination as teenagers. But above all, a belt that still smells of her sex.
And I wear it daily with a touch of nostalgia.
