Rob Dutch our evil Polish overlord, had her near a reservoir but before then I saw a different path from the Polish Overlord cockroaches pathway.
I made my way to love.
B.B
Justina Valentine walks to me in a hotel room in Lublin and opens her coat displaying her naked goods to see me open the doors.
I felt I took time off from stress work shipping cargo.
"I love you to ring my doorbell when no Polish man can."
She takes me on my balls and bites her teeth and pushes me in.
"Dzenkuja dobra."
The doors closed behind us, her wearing nothing, stepping on me letting my huge black mountain she could climb to summit on a peak of it letting out an atomic gazer explosion far greater than nuclear weapons she knew in her lifetime.
When I left for time off and had fun in Lublin, the bold polish overlord in nine out of ten love arcs I wrote to you now.
He never knew never to pay his mind I spread their love.
His henchman Zbigniav's blond polish wife I did love on garden furniture extending her dark pubic hair pushing her legs apart. The black blade pointing in her did make a victory cut. I named it Hayabusa.
"You keep it down kurva mach."
He spoke out the window in the night throwing tobacco papers packets out on us while we partied hard in the dark, me pumping her night on the way to her home. We had joy.
I told her to go home and I closed on her. "Perdola and collect your panties. I work tomorrow too."
"."
The fat landlady Agnieshka and her loose nightgown she lifted up I could access her love.
I made it her way. She was a landlady, a work colleague looking for our comfort in an accommodation and working with us mixing and sending cargo orders.
She was no cherry but I did pick her.
The very first you have to lift and spread the lard before you butter her in and have great taste to see if I can let the final spices fill in.
I did help her household chores before assisting in cleaning behind her not letting go of her vacuum cleaner.
I hope to write to you later about her.
*.*
Dear cousin, I am sending you this email to Africa to let you know about another adventure I made last week.
It took me a week to compose your writing. I couldn't think of how to gather my thoughts and write to you how I fight polish abuse and racism.
Manto's wife did not pay not much attention to him.
I spoke, asking him what to do when she played her phone ignoring him after I respected her flower dress.
I stroked her kitty and she thought we would never split the milk.
When the family finished the work contract she made three of us lovely polish burgers to refill our stamina bed they left back home to Poland.
I have nothing else to report.
With great respect I undersigned fighting racism initials BM.
*.*
The red dress housewives of Polish Overlord and his first love.
Her name was Sara, half Polish half Chinese. I did share the joy.
She was a team leader and Karl taught me to pick Polish locks.
Sara was laying stomach flat on the garden bench, her red dress up on her buttocks.
I made a garden press enjoying Dutch sunshine.
The ducks were walking around eating gardens mown near the pond I threw the condoms in once I completed my missions.
It was a great day when her husband was off and his henchmen dazed asleep from polish beer and dutch weed.
I did make my morning training come true, her dreams of fertility and freedom from her fools empire.
It was the Polish beer world Ippon championship finals I made my way in.
When I finished on her to toss away the condom I spoke.
"Super."
Dear diary I am writing to myself to remember them years later.
*.*
The Polish stadium love story made her pay my attention by zipping a jeans zipper and raising it up, holding my hand closer to her.
I did make her aware of the manliness art she did miss from her husband when no polish is art of manliness working hard the ways of monkeys would never replace their wives working and spreading their legs like happy hours in the brothels.
I did grab the hard hand over the backside, strong fingers sliding over her jeans allowing me to know that I am here and love her.
It was great to think I made my way to Utrecht football stadium football games to see her cheer me up.
I did feel sick after spreading Romanian wife cellulitis.
She spread it over and asked me to help her with washing cream fallen behind the washing machine in her slim see through shorts.
I lifted her cellulitis off the floor and she did bend to show me she cannot reach it and sit her on the washing machine showing her side to side allowing her to watch me pump her plumbing clean from side to side I slip in her.
"I bend your kurva sideways ." I spoke with her in intense moments of sex letting her know a true man.
It made me forget the ugly Romanian side. I nailed another Polish overlord lady at the side of stadium C4 side entrance.
She grabbed my dark Hayabuse in her palm letting it slide out.
I stroked the full hand of her love cream and made it appear she knew once she licks it will slide in her to fill our love in.
I never ask her name for making love in the case of hit and run Polish Overlords territory. It was great.
I am pleased with her. But it continues to think about two women.
I was pleased and did shower the same night thinking I would go to sleep. Going to work in the morning for the Polish Overlord made me happier.
The stadium lover was a former Elle's recruitment agency recruit who did visit our house.
I later learned her face. Her hair is similar to a fake blond dive.
She brushed my hair over the smell to invite her to speak on the lower floor.
I did help them flex. I made their dreams come true.
The fake Polish prophets sweat.
A.A
I spread our new team leader Sara, under the order of Karl, who told me how to pick polish locks order picking in Electric Powered Transport.
She did not mind me to be seconds after her failed marriage and Karl's ways I made her know I am a Congolese man.
I am here to have her from a failed Polish Overlordship marriage.
^.^
Cyclops security whores wives and their little girls on the sides.
The Cyclops security utlilezes prostitutes to fill their desires the african man strives in glory.
"I did deliver you a baby. I hope you will not swallow your birth cut when you deliver."
"No darling. I will only swallow your schlong, danku-well."
She made her man spread in dark love and she enlarged it, stroking in for a second shot she is ready to eat it this time through her mouth. She fell in love with abandoning her husband and their ten years old daughter from a failed husband in a security firm.
)*(
Our kebab store's juicy details did make me happy dear diary.
I am extremely happy with my fight versus racist polish accepting their women loving arms.
I knew from the news they made violent racist acts to immigrants from the Far East attacking their kebab shop and while I visited Lublin I took Justina Valentine to a Pakistani kebab place.
We would join our hips letting know a true Congolese man here.
I let her dressing coat spread open.
I lift her on one finger on the table before kebab cutting Pakistanis to see all possibilities of justice are open before them to see on the table.
The way Polish men say look for yourself I did bring justice with one of the Polish Overlord's wives.
She did love how she hugged me. I pumped in her swaying hips back and forward asking for me more both looking behind the meat counter.
^.^
I was stroking in Dutch porn cinema for Dutch wives come in and visit inside while their husbands were waiting outside.
But it is another story to let you know dear cousin. I am sending you to let you know happy eighteenth birthday and to stop playing these fish fingers.
When I was cycling to work I was thinking about the other time I opened the Spanish order picker she spoke to.
"Santa Maria."
I had a small problem our work transporter broke and while evil Polish Overlord Rob Dutch henchmen were repairing it, I cycled to work.
I made a secret stop on way to work to meet from rival company the Spanish employee we could both enjoy me letting out stream over her cute face letting some over her glasses and brown hair.
We could laugh at hers. "Santa Maria."
It was our secret we kept from Justina Valentine but it kept me going in loving Spanish arms and fighting Polish racism.
).(
I fell in love once, I had a love story with a Chinese student in the Oxford dining hall.
"Yes brother she was a proper whore."
I spoke on call to London about my adventures with fellow business school student.
We did remember to make a live remix about her comparison to present a presentation on a call.
I told my brother in London. "I focked so much polish I grew god damned afro."
She fried some chicken. I came in her mouth when marijuana burned. We took our turns singing those filthy maple leaf songs thinking about beautiful polish sexy holes.
"Yes brother, you just hit a hit over the phone like eating pussy."
"Yes you are already like he is focking your wife."
"I love my afro."
"Her name was Josie and she was another polish hole."
"Yes we took her to her home. Her possy was breakfast, it was a crisis."
"Yes brother, take a couple zig zags and burn that joint like our uncle Henesse."
"I cannot wait to fock polish biatch on credit."
"Yes brother like SAS Garrisons like the Polish President's wife on credit in the wrong neighborhood."
"Yes I do her like a terrorist colt 45 and two zig zags."
^.^
The true Polish woman taught me to handle my guns in her bedroom.
It was no surprise I took Polish lovers to fight racism rather than staying in a love nest with a Chinese student we made in a campus exchange programme because I am a true Congolese man.
I feel for a polish filth and cradle author. I am a people's champ.
How about 9 out of 10 acts love the kurva round?"