webcam mic test online Only to cope with it does not come out, How can you call her? This thrust is more terrible: Tomly flesh, and sometimes – stronger than love.
It is useless to be silent and hide, It is useless to search and suffer, And to get lost in the crowd, And to look into the faces — It is impossible to guess.
Often I, in the solitude of crying, called my Lord.
This is just fate, This is just luck, That I met him! This house, where I was sheltered, Became dearer than the paternal orphanage.
Here I was loved and chained, And from now on the slave is called.
Thin latex, creaky skin, These chains, collar, belts —I am a domestic animal, Looks like a toy, It is impossible to forget even for a moment, That I am neither a wife nor a friend, Not a hostess (this is what I mean), Not a lover, JustParty – servants, And partly – a favorite thing.
I do not have whims, And having done my homework, I do not dare to play, I do not watch TV, It does not happen that I overslept.
I really want to touch my hands, Caress yourself with your fingers, but I’m alone at home, Under the pupil of TV cameras Pleasure is forbidden.
Unless – soak in the bath, Or read something, but for now You can just sit On the floor in anticipation, When the lock spring clicks.
At that moment I again understand, That in fact, at the beginning I began – the same door, Only the door I am alive, And my keeper of the key came.
There is no other desire, except, To run up, shackling, ringing, To kneel before him And silently, to bow, To wait for him to hug me.
Whisper: “Sir, good evening, – Zamiraya feet, like a shadow. alice gray webcam anal
– As a slave waited, How she dreamed of meeting, How she missed the whole day! .
I have been appointed to share such, So that later, in darkness and silence, To redeem before Him (If He wishes) The sin of the mysterious slave soul.
About freedom without sparing, To give away what the Master will take, And to drink to the end, Drinking bitterly from delight, Bitter honey from the flaming honeycombs.
And when the heart calms down, And the command will come “hang up”, Crawl into the nook With a barred door And slam it behind you.
And at nights, when my niche is illuminated by the light of the midnight moon, I compose poems — By opportunity, quieter, Because my love is asleep.
Wearing an army hat, Tighter melt pulling, Carelessly throwing.
” Your mom.
“And the mirror points pritknu.
I’m on the beach! Otmyklo heart.
I’m on the beach – the excitement in the blood.
Opening his knees like doors, Madams lie, frowning eyebrow.
Noisy coastal showcase.
The product is decomposed out of place.
With a beauty next – the type, And the low fat in a row.
I’m at the beach.
Down with embarrassment! Came the merchant, not just like that! Oh, the feeling of anticipation! Oh, male-female our contact! Oh, how they try, coquette, So that a personal “pestle to pollinate”, And that matrons, that nymphets, – One trick, and the same agility! My capital at the moment of having seized, Drop the bathing top “suddenly”, Bikini on a hollow is shifted, Throwing in a shiver, calling for a sin.
Well, having spotted a wedge, shaved Pretty women, about thirty years old, Ready to explode with dynamite, O, stronghold of flocks, save! I’m at the beach.
What a torture! My wife purrs agitatedly.
Not devoid figure of chic.
Attention males flatter her.
And to open up one doesn’t know how, well, what is it that they have found in her ?! She – from the looks sweet thrilled, And you – lie on a leash! There, the pullet, – fire! Slip to her “for five minutes”! “Pawing along the beach, dear, Do you want to lie here ?!” “Not”! The heart of the holiday rejoices.
Freedom air, how sweet you are! “No” it means that I can Knead pullet, that there is strength! She hardly recognizes herself, As if she were a rogue in life, I call on a blonde with a look, She has eyes.
“Husband supposedly here!”.
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