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The wife sighed becoming a cotton, And Himself spilled like a horse! In my soul the sea has boiled Desires of revenge through wine, And reinforced the thought of grief, Poison, hidden in wine! Roared, rebelled in fierce rage – Dumbfounded, dropping at once.
There, shit! – With a whistle in the sky.
With a palm the poker has grown together.

Look, from the spouse, the bough of the tribe! There, fuckin ‘creature! Or I will beat, give time, I will maim the inventory! They all looked at the distance, How to dress his wife In a translucent creation, Without remembering her guilt.
Its, of course, does not pull, Although the load poker! No, my little flower will not fade! And do not wait a fig! And ahead was the road, To which came through the fog, And behind the back – the border of a strict, Yesterday’s life without a mind.
eleven.
From the blow, the body became a wad.
Beat a log, someone neat, Crouching in tall reeds.
Forgive us for telling you.
Nerves, honor and conscience sparing.
Three days of a dream, but not bondage, Rest, and only, having presented.
Where is the wife, and why am I at home? Give up! You just do not fool! Daddy svez her in a brothel secluded.
Third day.
In the morning – take it.
There, he owed him three hundred bucks, And she asked for love, He passed her and on a solid tax, To work for blood.
You kicked him into the inheritance with a foot. He lost that power for a day, And Phazer saturafection imposed yours, the culprit of the consequences.
She has half a hundred male sufferers. Sex games online for couples.

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