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“Roman uncoupled the sensors and the catheter from his body,” since we officially fixed our relationship as a bride and a groom, we may well continue.
The man turned the crazed girl on his back, and without thinking of getting out of it, and she was surprised to understand that his member had not lost in size or strength at all.

Her eyes closed, a victorious smile began to play on her lips, and her legs spread apart as much as possible to make it easier for Roman to enter the supple vagina, which responded with a grateful pulsation.
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– Ffuh.
Nice frolic.
– Yes.
– On a mug of beer? – This is not a sin.
– Right.
Two came out, puffing out of the bowling club, and headed to the nearest stall, which overgrown, like colored mushrooms, around the cable car.
Cotton wool mist swirled around.
A strange combination of populations and silence, always surprising at Ai-Petri, evoked a melancholy.
Crouching under an awning, they received their Chernihivske and silently savored it, looking into the blue abyss, gaping under their feet.
Both of them were full of strength, although not the first youth: one was over thirty, the other seemed older than five years or more.
– Well? For an acquaintance? – finally asked the one who was younger.
– Yeah.
They lazily clinked glasses.
– Right here settled? – Yes, in the “Golden Mouflon”.
– And I.
“Children of the Mountains”, the third hut from “Mouflon”.
Awesome place.
– Yeah.
Wife dragged.
I want, he says, again in the mountains.
– Married, then? – So, yes.

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Are you a bachelor, judging by the question? – Yes, how to tell you.
– As it is, say so.
– Well.
To be honest, I don’t fart in this business.
– What? Such a juicy man, I’m sorry for the truth.
– Juicy something juicy, but, apparently, my juice is not the one.
Forever in some stories vlyapyu.
He fell in love with a married woman, then she left me alone, then virtual novels.
– Virtual? What is it like? – Ltd.
It’s like live, only cooler.
Because in fantasy.
And you can not touch, and so many impressions that you burst, damn, or from happiness, or from hell knows what.
– Yes.
Picturesquely described.
– What are you, not? Well, of course, you’re a family man, you don’t care.
Where, by the way, spouse? – Rides with Shunka on a camel.
Shunk is my son, four years.
After half an hour should be.
So, you say, cooler than live? – It depends on which side to look.
It’s not so simple.
You see, women – this is a terrible zapadlo.
– Understand.
– Yes, you wait !.
Let me finish.
We have gender equality, right? We communicate with women, every minute we see them, how they are all from themselves – with figures, with waists, with boobs.
We must behave with them correctly, decently, as with members of society, damn it.
Sometimes they are too close, sometimes you have to touch them, or even smack, or even hug, if you’re in good company and not a goof.
And at the same time, it is necessary to pretend that you are not cutting your eyes, that the whole woman, from head to toe, with every inch of her body, every turn of her body, every intonation of her voice, screams sex.
Shouts – and she is not aware.
Or conscious.
Or conscious, and unaware at the same time, hell knows what they have there inside.
And we must pretend that you are all so cultured, educated, that you catch her external wave, and not the inner, main one, which yells: strip me, squeeze, lick, hug – and fuck, fuck, fuck !.
– Well, and where does the virtual? – Ltd.
Virtual here, moreover, that there you can approach the woman from the other side.
From behind the mirror
There also have their own conventions, but they are not as strong as in real life.
Through them it is much easier to break through to the feminine nature.
To dig a course inside.
Touch – real touch to a woman, I mean – requires much more effort to break the conventions than frankness in the network, understand? And frankness in the network allows you to touch not for the boobs, but

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right behind the heart.
From there and closer to the boobs, by the way, and it will be a return, not a breakthrough. Erica rose campbell nude.

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