domingo, 30 de agosto de 2015

domingo, 19 de abril de 2009

Provocation



sábado, 18 de abril de 2009

Chocolate and Milk





To allow me that it puts this photo, of which I like many sins? you detail to you, quiz? s before and despu? s of that uncontrolled bite to that tablet. ;-)





Pero quiz? s what m? s, that smile type 'Monna Lisa', humorous and p? face.







video





Quiz? s is the v? nculo of which we are put aqu?, he is imaginaci? n or the Inter? s by diverse forms literary or language visual, judging by blogs assiduous (and those that is not it as much), to that I am hooked, each one in its own personality, but leading all of them of expresi? n of that imaginaci? n that is able to activate much with details m? s min? sculos.



Here innocent video who develops a little m? s these impulses.


Not them encounter prunes? s to help me?







By m? s that I look for them.

There are lost my hands fr? ace, I to like? that is to say qui? n me has cleared them, without them I feel like a confused, single insect, in my habitaci? n, revoloteando with the glance misled in the rainy landscape that I can see trav? s of trasl? cidos crystals, I feel terribly incomplete.



I think about as I feel and I concentrate in what I need, which causes that it feels to me alive. I close the eyes, quiz? s est? s ah? , to my side. I cannot verte but I have a feeling an pleasant heat that it indicates to me close that these, already arriving from not where.

My lips sonr? in idiot (tambi? n disobeys to me by all means), had to be tight, concentrated, but no, catch your perfume, c? lido and smooth, I inspire deeply trying to fill to me of that aroma, pertaining not that p? thalli of a flower intoxicating olorosa.



My brain seems to be that tambi has spoiled? n, concentr? ndome a little but, I catch or quiz? s I imagine, subtle differences in the perfume that invades my sense of smell, the smooth and sweet scent of your neck, the attractive aroma of your decollete, mixed by which a escapes trav? s of your body, arising between your thighs, impregnating your delicate clothes, in your excitaci? quiet n.



… I maintain the eyes closed, enjoying sensaci? n .....



I listen to your respiraci? n. Close, closely together. Tentaci? n to return to me is almost irresistible, but I recreate to me in the l? mite, alarg? ndolo the m? possible s. My coraz? n begins to accelerate itself exponentially, always does at the moment, I am dedicated to listen to my interior secretly.



Smile that is high and mighty when verifying that my body disobeys to me by in? sima time and tour towards you, I cannot nor I want to stop it. Now I feel a to you? n too much close, opposite.

To perhaps they separate cent us? meters, or quiz? thousands? meters, I do not have form to know it. but I notice the heavy gravity, like which it exerts the moon full on the sea.



I feel within my, as the tide grows, as my weaves under the skin swagger, collection your hand to caress my lips, that smile subtly that your me ense? aste to draw in my face, marc? ndome the cheeks, are an almost imperceptible rubbing, but sensaci? n is powerful. Advance my hands for acariciarte, I stop to little thousands? meters of your skin. I cannot verte, but almost I can sentirte.



Tasting anticipaci? n that obstructs to my coraz? n, the irrefrenable desire that t? you feed. When again my body wins to me, finally I touch your smooth skin, so sweet and delicate compared with the m? a. I cross with my fingers the l? nea of mand? bula while I imagine your eyes blue color I am transparent, nailing the glance in my closed p? rpados.



Your hands either est? n quiet, cannot be it, and smoothly crosses my face until interlacing itself in my nape of the neck. You attract to me towards you, and while it beams, my coraz? n pumps a? n at but speed, I submerge in your aroma, your tact. Our lips finally are close, sensaci? sweet n but of the world. The smoothness of your lips looking for the ms? you it causes a series to me of unloadings that cross my v? rtebras, tremors that surprise to me.



Sensaci? n is so strong that my respiraci? n begins to accelerate itself. My language crosses your lips and t? you allow it to enter. You begin to caress my language with yours and I cannot avoid that a jadeo escapes between my lips, my hands that no longer est? n fr? ace crosses your hip and they approach a.m. to you? , your tambi? n you embrace to me with force while the kiss contin? to, like fact to lack that fr? to temperature of the hands, that you beam? to shake.



Assaulted militarily by a thousand of placenteras sensations, the world disappears, I ask to you mentally, that make my hands, no longer I control them, the yolks of my fingers from the beginning say that you close the eyes, closed mine to me, I suppose that you enjoy so much as I the sensations and uncontrolled tides that they cross to us.



The kiss is impregnated of pasi? n, your coraz? n barks on a par that the m? or, your respiraci? n is made but and deep hard, both we separated simultaneously, sonr? is and my coraz? n almost explodes of happiness, I am on the awares for mirarte, sentirte with? felt nico that a? n I have not used, your coolness even est? in my lips, your tact lasts in my hands, your respiraci? n resonates in my or? two and your perfume even enchants, I am on the awares to me for verte…

I again am in my habitaci? n, single, but that if, without my hands fr? ace.



I dreamed a dream Susan Boyle




Watching this v? deo, several stories of the brothers came to the mind Grimm......

I do not give tracks, better to watch it….

Good lecci? n to the prejudices.
If to prefer? s to see v? deo of Susan Boyle in Youtube



lunes, 13 de abril de 2009

The Poet and the Puta

- Give me one euro

- Ehhhh. Only one euro?

- That to be enough? , in fact I to you had pagarte

- Nor to speak, I want that I receive like a dem? s.

- Before died. Your you are not like dem? s, I do not understand half of your words, but I like or? rte to speak slowly, you respect the words, you think them, and you make me feel things, I feel important to hacerte happy.
Normally my clients make me feel badly, when they finish are speechless, like sorry of having been with me, they get dressed and they go away without watching to me, or fall asleep then I has left a hollow in the chest, because I feel used like a already dull butt, I to like? to or? rles to say any bobada.

- I come to buy your caresses, does not have to enamor to me, I want to break my solitude, if I pay single euro to you, not to feel? well, habr? s p? rdido your time and I my dignity, can pagarte enough m? s and being? to just doing it. My readers begin my books of poes? ace and leaves them to half upon the small table, or four phrases are learned coarsely to recite them to loved his. Your you listen to letter to me, with those awares so been on, your caresses are poes? to of my skin, its price is infinite.

- F? call and p again? game infinitely then.

- Sabes? You are incorrigible, to shut up to me? and then without the payment of my words to have? s to receive to me what it must.

Puta mir? amused.

- I like when you shut up because est? s like absentee,
and you hear to me from distant spot, and my voice does not touch to you .....

- Tienes contestaci? n for everything eh? but noneven poes? , it must be listened to finds out.

- It seems that the eyes had flown to you
and it seems that a kiss closed the mouth to you.

Like all the things est? full n of my soul
you emerge from the things, full of soul m? a.
Butterfly of sue? or, you look yourself like my soul,
and you look yourself like the word melancol? a.

I like when you shut up and est? s like distant.
And est? s like quej? ndote, butterfly in I sing to sleep.
And you hear to me from distant spot, and my voice does not reach to you:
D? jame that me street with silence yours.

D? jame that speaks tambi to you? n with your silence
clear like an l? mpara, simple as a ring.
You are like the night, shut up and constelada.
Your silence is of star, so distant and simple.

I like when you shut up because est? s like absentee.
Distant and painful as if you had died.
A then word, a smile is enough.
And I am glad, it cheers of that is not certain.

Neruda

The poet giv to puta an lacrimal and sens like inspiration retorc? to in its interior when seeing like emoci? n adue? aba of that face, and those so open eyes were flooded.

What it liked of her, is that was ace.

domingo, 29 de marzo de 2009

No las encuentro ¿podeís ayudarme?

Por más que las busco.
He perdido mis manos frías, me gustaría saber quién me las ha quitado, sin ellas me siento como un insecto despistado, solo, en mi habitación, revoloteando con la mirada extraviada en el lluvioso paisaje que puedo ver a través de los traslúcidos cristales, me siento terriblemente incompleto.

Pienso en como me siento y me concentro en aquello que me falta, lo que hace que me sienta vivo. Cierro los ojos, quizás estés ahí, a mi lado. No puedo verte pero presiento un agradable calor que me indica que estas cerca, ya llegando de no se donde.
Mis labios sonríen tontamente (también me desobedecen por supuesto), debieran estar apretados, concentrados, pero no, captan tu perfume, cálido y suave, inspiro profundamente intentando llenarme de ese aroma, perteneciente a no se que pétalos de una flor embriagadoramente olorosa.

Mi cerebro parece ser que se ha estropeado también, concentrándome un poco mas, capto o quizás imagino, sutiles diferencias en el perfume que invade mi olfato, el olor suave y dulce de tu cuello, el atrayente aroma de tu escote, mezclado por el que se escapa a través de tu cuerpo, surgiendo entre tus muslos, impregnando tu delicada ropa, en tu excitación silenciosa.

...Mantengo los ojos cerrados, disfrutando de la sensación.....

Escucho tu respiración. Cerca, muy cerca. La tentación de volverme es casi irresistible, pero me recreo en el límite, alargándolo lo más posible. Mi corazón comienza a acelerarse exponencialmente, siempre lo hace en estos momentos, me dedico a escuchar secretamente mi interior.

Sonrisa que se ensancha al comprobar que mi cuerpo me desobedece por enésima vez y se gira hacia ti, no puedo ni quiero detenerlo. Ahora te siento aún demasiado cerca, enfrente.
Tal vez nos separen unos centímetros, o quizá milímetros, no tengo forma de saberlo. pero si noto la pesada gravedad, como la que ejerce la luna llena sobre el mar.

Siento dentro de mi, como crece la marea, como se ahuecan mis tejidos bajo la piel, percibo tu mano acariciar sutilmente mis labios, esa sonrisa que tu me enseñaste a dibujar en mi rostro, marcándome la mejillas, es un roce casi imperceptible, pero la sensación es poderosa. Adelanto mis manos para acariciarte, me detengo a escasos milímetros de tu piel. No puedo verte, pero casi puedo sentirte.

Paladeo la anticipación que embarga a mi corazón, el deseo irrefrenable que tú alimentas. Cuando de nuevo mi cuerpo me vence, por fin toco tu suave piel, tan dulce y delicada comparada con la mía. Recorro con mis dedos la línea de la mandíbula mientras me imagino tus ojos color azul transparentes, clavando la mirada en mis cerrados párpados.

Tus manos tampoco están quietas, no pueden estarlo, y recorren suavemente mi rostro hasta entrelazarse en mi nuca. Me atraes hacia ti, y mientras lo haces, mi corazón bombea aún a mas velocidad, me sumerjo en tu aroma, en tu tacto. Nuestros labios por fin se rozan, la sensación mas dulce del mundo. La suavidad de tus labios buscando los míos me provoca una serie de descargas que recorren mis vértebras, estremecimientos que me sobrecogen.

La sensación es tan fuerte que mi respiración comienza a acelerarse. Mi lengua recorre tus labios y tú la permites entrar. Comienzas a acariciar mi lengua con la tuya y no puedo evitar que un jadeo se escape entre mis labios, mis manos que ya no están frías recorren tu cadera y te acercan a mí, tu también me abrazas con fuerza mientras el beso continúa, como hecho a faltar esa fría temperatura de las manos, que te hacía estremecer.

Asaltado militarmente por un millar de sensaciones placenteras, el mundo desaparece, te pregunto mentalmente, que hacen mis manos, ya no las controlo, las yemas de mis dedos me dicen que cierras los ojos, cerrados los mios desde el principio, supongo que disfrutas tanto como yo de las sensaciones y mareas incontroladas que nos recorren.

El beso se va impregnando de pasión, tu corazón late a la par que el mío, tu respiración se hace mas fuerte y profunda, los dos nos separamos a la vez, sonríes y mi corazón casi estalla de felicidad, abro los ojos para mirarte, sentirte con el único sentido que aún no he empleado, tu frescor aun está en mis labios, tu tacto perdura en mis manos, tu respiración resuena en mis oídos y tu perfume aun me hechiza, abro los ojos para verte...
Me encuentro de nuevo en mi habitación, solo, pero eso si, sin mis manos frías.

jueves, 26 de marzo de 2009

Daniela Blume Orgasmo en directo








Cursó estudios de sexología en Canadá. Trabajó en el club Bagdad de Barcelona, en el cuál destacó por su fotogenia y simpatía, participó en el exitoso programa de Telecinco “Crónicas Marcianas”.
Protagonizó varias intervenciones en “TNT” y en el espacio “Condició femenina” (Canal Català). Tras su periplo televisivo, está considerada una de las mujeres con mayor carga errótica y fotogenia, sus striptease son famosos y completan con decenas de miles de visitas canales como youtube, actualmente es copresentadora del espacio diario radiofónico “Ponte a prueba” en Europa FM (de lunes a viernes de 23h a 01h), donde ella misma se hace llamar “la putilla rubia”. Ahora Daniela Rubio participa en Supervivientes 2009, en donde se presupone aportará el morbo necesario para subir la dañada audiencia (share) de Telecinco.




Daniela Blume(colaboradora del programa de radio de Europa FM Ponte a Prueba P.A.P.
Se introduce un microfono por el coño y se empieza a masturbar, para que lo oigan los espectadores. Muy morboso la verdad, fabulosa la naturalidad de esta hermosa mujer.


OIRLA !!!

Espectacular desnudos integrales para muchos canales de tlevision, canal City TV, Telecinco,.... emisoras de radio


Video del making off de Daniela Blume para la revista Primera Linea. Fue un posado para un calendario erotico hecho por la revista Primera Linea.