La Ciudad Folla a los Ciudadanos

Follamos en la ciudad (que gustito da) y la ciudad luego nos 'folla' a nosotros ;-)

Bufff que daño !! ;-)

Leche de Macho

Mamada perdida (sacao de Internet) me ha molao esta poesía tan fina.
Con el pene ensangrentado y aturdio, totalmente colocao
Solo recuerdas unos labios carmesí
Que te la chupaban con frenesí
Conocida en discoteca,
la pillaste frágil jovencita, bonita, colgada, despreocupada
Escasa de ropa, con piercings y tatuada
Siempre fuiste un cabrón de lengua ágil
Sabías que de aspecto, era toda una marrana.
Como quien consigue su objetivo a traición
Le prometiste la luna bajo su ventana hasta que comenzó a mamar, con fruición
Recuerdos vagos de un ascensor,
eyaculando blanco elixir sobre sus desnudos pechos, firmes, duros
Y sus blancos dientes, de calcio nutridos de muchas mamadas perdidas antes del sol salir
Pasando el umbral de tu oscuro dominio
Invitándola a que se ponga cómoda cometes de tu moral exterminio
La miras, la besas, la desnudas toda
Nieve empaperinada, blanca, de angel y demonio
Alcohol, perversión y mutuo jolgorio
Pese a k te esfuerzas no recuerdas, cabeza ida
Y todo aquello solo fué una mamada perdida

Provocation

Ducha de leche

Como me apetece beber lechita........

Un pokillo de morbo para pasar la semanita !!

Y ahora para las amantes de la leche 'masculina' una buena corridas..
mmmmm me relamo. !!! K rikaaaa en mi carita !!!

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.













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

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.