bonga cams 50 Interesting, come today to congratulate? As it turned out later, everything miraculously coincided with the verses.
“one writer, as expected, walked along Tverskaya Street and decided to visit the artist in an art workshop” But at the same time he decided to grab me with him, as a holiday, and the Girl should be congratulated properly, together, from two sides, naturally.
Or in two holes? Or in all the holes, as usual, at least in turn.
“he called a familiar girl bought a bottle of murmurs, ham, cheese, canned food, bread, two liters of pepsi and flowers” In fact, it is not known whether the Writer really bought only one bottle of murmur, or there was more wine.

But he honestly fought with his base impulses, because he remembered that March 8, and me, the Girl should be congratulated.
And if you take the three bottles of mumbling, then it’s with the Artist, maybe it will be good, but who will congratulate me, Girl, then there will be? There will be two useless members of society with lethargic.

uami and one dissatisfied girl.
We all live close to each other.
The writer, having bought products and flowers, took his next opus, just published, so that I could give it to him. how to take photos with a webcam
We met on the street, he gave me flowers, kissed and, promisingly, patted my ass.
In passersby in sight, a goat! My butt was securely covered for the time being.
Whether pants and shorts, or a skirt, but without panties? No, it can not be March 8 without panties, it is very cold outside.
And then everything went as written.
“the artist met them affably, the first one poured out to the fullest, the girl flushed coquettishly, and the writer gave the women’s holiday literary production with a signature; How nice of them to give me, on March 8, literary products and any other.
uetu, that is, reproduction.
My chest began to squeeze even greater forebodings, although for the time being, nobody had ever touched me.
And below the tummy, a familiar languor arose (my body felt white, that an ambush was inevitable).
And I blushed not so much coquettishly as from wine.

The artist and the Writer were guys not to miss, they knew that if I had a little bit to drink, I became weak on the front end (on the mouth and on the back, too weak).
“they are kissing pranks, joking jokes and pouring wine on her, they almost finish the third till the end and they see the girl is drunk” “How did you finish the third? What is the third? A glass or a bottle? These bastards instead of one bottle of murmurs bought three?”
And they did not kiss the handle.
More and more on the lips.
I was already thinking poorly and was ready to get rid of clothes and put in my holes for congratulations.
They already saw that I was drunk.
And I also told them about it.
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