It would be a perfect day. Juliet Montague absently stroked shaggy mane that rested on his shoulder bare and heaving to the sounds of breathing calmed, and then tried pulling the tongue to clear a path to the edge of the bed without waking the poor boy is exhausted by the three Successive orgasms that she had withdrawn long, as evidenced by the countless bags of condoms gutted that littered the floor of his small loft Bordeaux, his "bachelor" as she called ... others had their candy fudge prudently garnished until the harsh winter, she preferred to fill his candy much more greedy and well fitted, although this was not necessarily the size that mattered, and again, it could raise doubts about it, not sure that his stallion is as much thanks to him the day he would no longer be able to make it enjoy so hard, to drumming neighbors across the walls of his apartment, dirty rats, old skins embittered and frustrated, it would still squeak behind her back and she would have to deny everything en bloc again, well, the coffee was ready, that's what he trafficked in her kitchen earlier in the morning, at a time when the sun coaxing the month of July was just beginning to cast its first rays over the Garonne whose reflections glowing ochres danced joyously before his eyes still half closed, as she sipped her coffee with small hissing noise which he enjoyed, and the tick throat so special that He was the only one to bear, even commenting on a chuckle sound that suddenly emerged from under the sheets with lavender He was emerging painfully clumsy that ghost suddenly turned into a prince charming fairy tales with the flaming sword proudly outstretched toward the heavens, tearing at a small smile touched Juliet she hastened to punish swiftly by diverting the gaze so as not to get caught up in the heavenly vision his powerful torso and tail silky penetrated with this haunting rhythm that only he seemed to know measurement, bing, bang, ding, dong, and now the church clock struck eleven o'clock Saint Michael the dot and the end of the market nearby, ding, dong, and her long hands that is contained with ease on its delicate hips when he took possession of his body and came into her with such force that she was biting the pillow so as not to scream and close their eyes to remove these images from his head before being tempted to join in the shower, but now he already came out, fortunately, dressed fresh look naughty and pen already nibbled at the mouth, feverishly searching eye throughout the apartment a piece of paper on which lie loose all night thoughts that had assailed his cortex, to return to the bed and stammered as a result of nonsensical words that made him smile in his half-Juliet sleep, as she tried to imagine what that might give once delicately put in order with the verve that she knew him in his good days. (more)
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