I have always liked flowers. It is their essence that makes me mad.
Instead their absence destabilizes me.
Sajira is a busty, delicate but at the same time provocative flower. It opens, undresses and unwinds.
She confessed to me that she was a dancer as a child and this is shown by the movements and the way she moves her legs.
When the goal is always hot. I find that she is prone to masochism, she also wants me to hurt her vagina while having sex. I don't want to but she asks me. So I don't think I can hold back, on the other hand why should I do it? Sometimes I put objects inside even when she sleeps and then she asks me what it is and well most of the time it is a small marker or when an icicle is hot.
-I have a frozen vagina-
-Sex sex sex. You are cold because I haven't licked it yet-
I put my tongue there several times a day and even at night and it excites me when she puts on her very short skirts and goes around alone without panties. She is insanely mad. It is a rose that chains me.
Blue like a mermaid like the stormy sea but which reaches its first calm wave and hits the coast.
Delicate flowers are always dear to me ...
When she dresses herself, she is moody but almost fists with vanity, servile harmony of the purest being.
Impure but full of chastity.
Chastity dressed in nudity. But I can't resist Sajira. I want to catch your breath your flower your sweetness.
The divine heart that softens your thoughts, the synergies that coexist in your brain. Your sinuous body of sweet snake without any sin.
Cowardly I who can't take my hands off your breasts without reproaching myself for being a pig.
What do I want from you my beloved ...
-What do you think Calt? -
He stares at me and touches her uncensored pussy.
-I think you're insatiably daring and piggy-
-We are two then-
-Yes my love-
Love without restraint.