excellent test for understanding!
fifth day I can not speak - The seams on the front teeth (sorry for the details, it was understandable that ...), I communicate with home gestures, mooing, and through the scriptures on a sheet:)
first day, no one did not realize at the end of the second day revealed trends:
husband - also grunts in reply, as I obshaetsya me gestures:) I find it funny - is it having such a large dependence on me? That is my ailments so contagious? "I put it to his personality? I write to him: "Why are you talking about gestures, too? You also can not pronounce the word? "laughs in response. Says it is against his will. Aaaaaa ....
daughter - honestly trying to guess what I'm asking her and that I say, trying to understand, build their own version of loud, but it turns out with the fourth attempt, and not before.
son - the first gesture of understanding and polumychaniya. Immediately sets the correct questions that I need to answer only "yes" or "no", that is to nod your head ... Thank you, my little big man (13 years old, one with my height and foot size 43 if that ...)!
excellent test for understanding, I would say, if it were not so painful:)
Thursday, January 27, 2011
What Day Of The Month Is The Premium Bond Draw
Two dates in one day.
Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day and day of the final lifting of the siege of Leningrad. Of course, me living a few years in St. Petersburg and knowledgeable witnesses of those terrible days, closer to the second date. In Europe you can often hear from anyone who knows of a blockade that had nothing to keep the resistance, we had to give up and voila! no hunger, no casualties. How would shifting the blame for the casualties on the attackers to defenders ... Absurdity of some!
very first date does not go unnoticed in Italian schools. Parents ask consent to view their own minor children of documentary films about the horrors of Auschwitz. Read testimonies of sufferers ... My youngest yesterday gave the job to write the poetic text (read - verse) about the Holocaust. After all, what she had heard and seen enough, here's what happened:
Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day and day of the final lifting of the siege of Leningrad. Of course, me living a few years in St. Petersburg and knowledgeable witnesses of those terrible days, closer to the second date. In Europe you can often hear from anyone who knows of a blockade that had nothing to keep the resistance, we had to give up and voila! no hunger, no casualties. How would shifting the blame for the casualties on the attackers to defenders ... Absurdity of some!
very first date does not go unnoticed in Italian schools. Parents ask consent to view their own minor children of documentary films about the horrors of Auschwitz. Read testimonies of sufferers ... My youngest yesterday gave the job to write the poetic text (read - verse) about the Holocaust. After all, what she had heard and seen enough, here's what happened:
NOT FORGET TO REMEMBER, DO NOT FORGET TO ...
Remember not to forget the dreams of the people killed.
And maybe that girl with the doll,
Where has imprisoned all his memories,
now burned in the past.
Remember not to forget
That girl or boy without a name,
but only with a number printed on the arm,
filled with tears of sorrow, because
already pulled all of their few rights.
Remember not to forget the humble
run by a woman cries,
No longer a woman because she removed her modesty,
Forced from around the world to work more like a not
woman but as a man
Do not forget to do not happen again in this world
Why enjoy the extermination
is something inert and mostly unheard of.
27/01/2011 ; Sofia.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Mobile Trailers For Sale In Ontario
January 9 had to go to Rome. K We came to say goodbye to our former (oh, it is hard to say so) Master - Archbishop Innocent. We went with my daughter, farewell, it was sad. But then managed to pass through the streets of Rome. In St Peter's got - more precisely, on the roof (elevator + 320 stairs !!!). There I visited the first time. Loved it, despite the haze, covered the eternal city. During the next post will set a couple of pictures Coliseum and surrounding area.
1. one of the entrances to the Cathedral
2. View of the Tiber from the one on the stairs okonets
3. View from inside the observation deck at the dome interior cathedral
4. But this view of the Russian Orthodox Church in the name of Catherine the Great from the dome of St. Peter. The lord gave a great "reverse" image - from the tower (look closely, it is clearly visible) on the dome of the Vatican. Our church is on the territory of the Russian embassy and that she was not above the dome of St. Peter, had to demolish hill at ten meters. Recently, incidentally, went on Russian television film about the construction of this temple.
5. That's how it looks up close.
6. Gardens of the Vatican
7.Gerb
8. Well, finally, a simple foot Roman dove at St. Peter's Square.
Implantation Bleeding A Week After Period
pescara @ 2011-01-25T09: 20:00
This morning I looked list of victims - familiar names did not see (thank God). List of the dead, like, not yet. But it is clear that I am no better than all these people, they just scared "Bad luck", but they were at that moment in that place, I found this Saturday on the road where the car, terrified whistle brakes, stopped 20 cm away from me. I looked at this forthcoming white bonnet and took a half step back, realizing that even the move will not save me from falling. The car stopped. In That Saturday I was on the street of Pescara, in this Monday, I was not at Domodedovo, but this does not mean that I'm better than those people and I deserve to live, but they do not. All They had the same hope for the best, like me, someone was kind me, someone prettier, someone infinitely more talented than me. How do feel sorry for you all, God is with you! It hurts!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Reno 911 Blue Costume
Fortuna
Title: Fortuna Red
Author: Stateira
Beta: Noneeeee
Fandom
Original Characters / Pairing: M / M
Rating: NC17
Notes: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of![[info]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_sacuNO9SZyJv9sW8ZJZSlfGCpVFjEMJXgBVP4Fm9wRR0GX1EhINCIlGyo4NODU5V6Uy1SDqoqtVb9zEAdzX9rRHHp19SThpv98CK6BvzXAWaGZ3gpERg=s0-d)
fanfic_italia . The prompt is evil "cigarette burns".
Doukas so that Victor wants to stop smoking his Lucky Red crap while he's sucking cock as much as enthusiasm may, nestled on the couch at home. Mumbles disapprovingly every time I hear exhale the smoke with more satisfaction than it does for some wriggle particularly guessed his tongue.
- Go ahead. - Victor says, kindly, but with hand falls like a guillotine on the neck of Doukas and forced him to sit still so far from sweet. Doukas not even think about it, to stop: just the tip of my tongue felt the unmistakable taste of the droplets of pre-orgasm, salted and intoxicants. Additionally, the consistency of the establishment of Victor has softened slightly, an unmistakable sign that is to come. The way getting to know someone really well and make oral sex. Do not you imagine the amount of shades of grimaces, groans and reactions that can take on a male body with a tongue wrapped around the bird.
Victor, in addition, we add the smoke, the smell and with sudden bursts of the wrist, when he has to shake off the ashes.
He does not particularly bother, it's more his roommate Danish complains about the smell of cigarette that is left to pollute the apartment after Victor had his orgasm. No, he's not here nothing annoys, Victor, on the contrary: when can sleep there for him, he likes that it fits in the ashy sheets wrapped in the smell of his fortunes. It enables you to fantasize about being a lying demon, a jinn by the skin of fire.
Doukas was born twenty-four years ago, but there seems to be forever. Besides, is greek, and everything that is greek has always existed. It is like the greek olive oil, and Victor will never learn to pronounce his name as it should, with the final that they just can not grind his teeth. You the whole atmosphere, though, because its appearance is not that good Hellenic is rather small, black, black hair, but has the pale skin and fine features, cream, as if it would interfere with his presence. He has a habit of frown, and is able to express almost any emotion in thousands of different ways. His specialty is the inappropriate sarcasm, such as when it interrupts a stunning blow to complain: - Please, you must turn off the cigarette? -
speaks English quite well, although it tends to express itself in a somewhat 'school like all students of languages.
Victor shows no sign of having heard. He wants to come too, and after that wants to strip Doukas badly and return the favor by folding against the back of the sofa to get your knees on the cheek. Perhaps, then, could have sex free of the compulsive rush of the first orgasm, and then he would enjoy that little body greek agile as ivy, that one day of the first three months occurred before saying, "The examination Contemporary History I do it just because you're the assistant professor. "
- Oooooh, Doukas. -
Victor is not a type of many words, and when it should be simply does it. He presses the palm on the forehead of Doukas to recline up, so that your palate will become a perfect wall to sink against the latest pressures tightened before splashing. He, however, has English as its fortunes, and has a bitch face, from apathetic, because they simply know the story so well from living outside of time, like a guy specialized in reading the policy page of newspapers. He turned thirty a month ago, but Doukas said that he has twenty-seven, just for the sake of lying.
raised him with dismissive gestures, but without malice. I want to do harm in a moment, still panting with my heart in my throat for swallowing, because it is just by looking in that state he can have it come back hard in a minute. While
tirarselo embraces life to the side, a thought pierced his head that take students home is immoral. Who smoke marijuana together is illegal. What, in short, the only acceptable thing in all this is that two consenting adult men and have sex.
Doukas has always triumphant expression when it believes it really did enjoy. The trouble is that it has a great intuition. Idly, Victor with his arms around him and does what he does best, that fill their world with the smell of spices and the torrid heat of his gestures. He does squatting like a puppy, belly, and Doukas already trembling to the anticipation. It's a little pervert who goes mad for Victor of his nationality, rather than the person he is, but that does not matter to him, because for that day three months before he decided that he would fell in love with him. drown face between the legs of Doukas and breathe deeply of the smell strong, hormone of sex. She kisses him on the very root of the penis, rubbing his chin just dimpled the short beard, and Doukas is already in heaven, judging from the screams that hunt. The skin of her thighs is white, and it is his, and is so buttery and smooth does not even seem like a man, and he would, would ...
- Shit! - Doukas screams indignantly. - I've burned, it hurts! - Victor
bites his lower lip as a sign of remorse, but the damage is done, and is not repentant at all. The purple dot Doukas printed on the skin, just at the point where the buttock curve inwards to hide her luscious little hole, is proof of the crime, and the butt of Fortune is still hot the murder weapon.
- I'm sorry. - Purr, knowing well what it's like her voice its beautiful, if some of the lower tone. Doukas looks at him with a look that would be severe, but the way in which readjusts the couch is clear that would only continue to be fucked with his tongue, burning or not burning. Victor puts it to him in without ceremony, making large movements with his head as he pleases, and Doukas cries, and has already forgotten everything.
If we put enough effort, then you can convince him that it was an accident.
Title: Fortuna Red
Author: Stateira
Beta: Noneeeee
Fandom
Original Characters / Pairing: M / M
Rating: NC17
Notes: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of
fanfic_italia . The prompt is evil "cigarette burns". Doukas so that Victor wants to stop smoking his Lucky Red crap while he's sucking cock as much as enthusiasm may, nestled on the couch at home. Mumbles disapprovingly every time I hear exhale the smoke with more satisfaction than it does for some wriggle particularly guessed his tongue.
- Go ahead. - Victor says, kindly, but with hand falls like a guillotine on the neck of Doukas and forced him to sit still so far from sweet. Doukas not even think about it, to stop: just the tip of my tongue felt the unmistakable taste of the droplets of pre-orgasm, salted and intoxicants. Additionally, the consistency of the establishment of Victor has softened slightly, an unmistakable sign that is to come. The way getting to know someone really well and make oral sex. Do not you imagine the amount of shades of grimaces, groans and reactions that can take on a male body with a tongue wrapped around the bird.
Victor, in addition, we add the smoke, the smell and with sudden bursts of the wrist, when he has to shake off the ashes.
He does not particularly bother, it's more his roommate Danish complains about the smell of cigarette that is left to pollute the apartment after Victor had his orgasm. No, he's not here nothing annoys, Victor, on the contrary: when can sleep there for him, he likes that it fits in the ashy sheets wrapped in the smell of his fortunes. It enables you to fantasize about being a lying demon, a jinn by the skin of fire.
Doukas was born twenty-four years ago, but there seems to be forever. Besides, is greek, and everything that is greek has always existed. It is like the greek olive oil, and Victor will never learn to pronounce his name as it should, with the final that they just can not grind his teeth. You the whole atmosphere, though, because its appearance is not that good Hellenic is rather small, black, black hair, but has the pale skin and fine features, cream, as if it would interfere with his presence. He has a habit of frown, and is able to express almost any emotion in thousands of different ways. His specialty is the inappropriate sarcasm, such as when it interrupts a stunning blow to complain: - Please, you must turn off the cigarette? -
speaks English quite well, although it tends to express itself in a somewhat 'school like all students of languages.
Victor shows no sign of having heard. He wants to come too, and after that wants to strip Doukas badly and return the favor by folding against the back of the sofa to get your knees on the cheek. Perhaps, then, could have sex free of the compulsive rush of the first orgasm, and then he would enjoy that little body greek agile as ivy, that one day of the first three months occurred before saying, "The examination Contemporary History I do it just because you're the assistant professor. "
- Oooooh, Doukas. -
Victor is not a type of many words, and when it should be simply does it. He presses the palm on the forehead of Doukas to recline up, so that your palate will become a perfect wall to sink against the latest pressures tightened before splashing. He, however, has English as its fortunes, and has a bitch face, from apathetic, because they simply know the story so well from living outside of time, like a guy specialized in reading the policy page of newspapers. He turned thirty a month ago, but Doukas said that he has twenty-seven, just for the sake of lying.
raised him with dismissive gestures, but without malice. I want to do harm in a moment, still panting with my heart in my throat for swallowing, because it is just by looking in that state he can have it come back hard in a minute. While
tirarselo embraces life to the side, a thought pierced his head that take students home is immoral. Who smoke marijuana together is illegal. What, in short, the only acceptable thing in all this is that two consenting adult men and have sex.
Doukas has always triumphant expression when it believes it really did enjoy. The trouble is that it has a great intuition. Idly, Victor with his arms around him and does what he does best, that fill their world with the smell of spices and the torrid heat of his gestures. He does squatting like a puppy, belly, and Doukas already trembling to the anticipation. It's a little pervert who goes mad for Victor of his nationality, rather than the person he is, but that does not matter to him, because for that day three months before he decided that he would fell in love with him. drown face between the legs of Doukas and breathe deeply of the smell strong, hormone of sex. She kisses him on the very root of the penis, rubbing his chin just dimpled the short beard, and Doukas is already in heaven, judging from the screams that hunt. The skin of her thighs is white, and it is his, and is so buttery and smooth does not even seem like a man, and he would, would ...
- Shit! - Doukas screams indignantly. - I've burned, it hurts! - Victor
bites his lower lip as a sign of remorse, but the damage is done, and is not repentant at all. The purple dot Doukas printed on the skin, just at the point where the buttock curve inwards to hide her luscious little hole, is proof of the crime, and the butt of Fortune is still hot the murder weapon.
- I'm sorry. - Purr, knowing well what it's like her voice its beautiful, if some of the lower tone. Doukas looks at him with a look that would be severe, but the way in which readjusts the couch is clear that would only continue to be fucked with his tongue, burning or not burning. Victor puts it to him in without ceremony, making large movements with his head as he pleases, and Doukas cries, and has already forgotten everything.
If we put enough effort, then you can convince him that it was an accident.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Outfits For Lola Luftnagle
Let's play Red Hot
There are a Fiat Punto, Opel Corsa and a Lamborghini Gallardo lined up side by side, and you must choose what is the best of the three. There are flowers of statistics that reward Fiat for the low consumption of the engine, the Opel and the relationship between space and interior space.
So voted. Vote on. Choose which of these three cars deserve the prize.
Messe ironies aside, the question of Golden Ball is just as easy to solve. There are
Messi, Xavi and Iniesta in the race for the title of best player in the world, and you must decide who is the best among the three. And who is metaphorically represented by Lamborghini of course, is not it? The difference between Iniesta and Xavi and Leo Messi is slightly less than stellar. The ancient Greeks would have called the first two "men" and third "hero." The men are there because we bring the heart, brain and muscles, the heroes succeed do so because they do.
raining seas of controversy left and right about this award, and frankly just do not understand why.
Condò Paul says plainly on the Journal today: "There is no question that Leo Messi is the milgior player in the world."
Eh. That's it, no? The prize for the best player in the world will go to the best player in the world is flawless. He cries because of the scandal
Leo Messi was not to win this award, should not own. It is so rotten that it might be best that you devote to them.
Licari has another gem in Serbian: "Recognize the absolute best, not the best of 2010. "
Ah, delicious sophistical by journalists to say something that, obviously, does not make sense.
"As troppissimo Messi is truly better than everyone else, we exclude it and give the Golden Ball this year to what not too pale by comparison." Barbie will be glad Cri, who ran to get the lamps before the gala.
Now, the rules for this award are a blessed little 'strange. No, because it seems to read here that it should win the prize for a force that during the year he won all winnable with his team. Ah. But so is an award that goes to the collective? If you have not won the championship at least a cup and you are automatically poor?
"Merit of the Liga and Barcelona, not Argentina," pontificates the Gazzottola.
No. No, no, no, no, we have not understood. Merit MESSI. You made that is good, not Argentina. Not Barcelona. When there is to reward the best team, discuss this issue again, but the Ballon d'Or is the prize awarded to the best player in the world. The player. gio.ca.to.re. the individual, the name on the jersey, two feet. A logical, if the best player in the world play in Terni, the Ballon d'rightful, and everything else is useless and rhetorically bla bla.
Where is written that the world champions must necessarily include the best player in the world? Okay, yes, we say it is theoretically possible, but this dictatorship of the psychological world is ridiculous. And it seems that South Africa has been forgotten in this year's Ballon d'Or, rather: there is and how, in so far as Iniesta did not deserve to win just because he scored the winning goal now nauseating, to the extent that there is no better than Xavi Sneijder in absolute terms, yet there he is, is the extent that Messi is a monster and deserves to be where there is not even with Argentina reached the top of the world.
then, the 11 proposed fab in the evening are pretty much the training that has taken a lot of slaps in the teeth from Portugal, and except for three whole Barbie Cri that for once he was on the right side of the Iberian Peninsula. There is also Casillas. Yes, yes, the one that reads Moccia and has taken five waves in the first match of the season seriously. You would have thought?
And then come and tell the world that has been ignored.
Mourinho has outperformed Del Bosque, and thank you very much, and if the campiooooooni the world have returned home empty-handed there is a reason, and no, kids, is not always because the world is ugly and bad.
So this year, the prize to the greatest footballer the world has gone to the greatest footballer in the world. Stuff you would not believe, I do not I make a right. Tonight I will not close my eyes thinking about how horrible life.
is not evil, never mind. That is, if you please, including the three I choose the Gallardo, eh?
There are a Fiat Punto, Opel Corsa and a Lamborghini Gallardo lined up side by side, and you must choose what is the best of the three. There are flowers of statistics that reward Fiat for the low consumption of the engine, the Opel and the relationship between space and interior space.
So voted. Vote on. Choose which of these three cars deserve the prize.
Messe ironies aside, the question of Golden Ball is just as easy to solve. There are
Messi, Xavi and Iniesta in the race for the title of best player in the world, and you must decide who is the best among the three. And who is metaphorically represented by Lamborghini of course, is not it? The difference between Iniesta and Xavi and Leo Messi is slightly less than stellar. The ancient Greeks would have called the first two "men" and third "hero." The men are there because we bring the heart, brain and muscles, the heroes succeed do so because they do.
raining seas of controversy left and right about this award, and frankly just do not understand why.
Condò Paul says plainly on the Journal today: "There is no question that Leo Messi is the milgior player in the world."
Eh. That's it, no? The prize for the best player in the world will go to the best player in the world is flawless. He cries because of the scandal
Leo Messi was not to win this award, should not own. It is so rotten that it might be best that you devote to them.
Licari has another gem in Serbian: "Recognize the absolute best, not the best of 2010. "
Ah, delicious sophistical by journalists to say something that, obviously, does not make sense.
"As troppissimo Messi is truly better than everyone else, we exclude it and give the Golden Ball this year to what not too pale by comparison." Barbie will be glad Cri, who ran to get the lamps before the gala.
Now, the rules for this award are a blessed little 'strange. No, because it seems to read here that it should win the prize for a force that during the year he won all winnable with his team. Ah. But so is an award that goes to the collective? If you have not won the championship at least a cup and you are automatically poor?
"Merit of the Liga and Barcelona, not Argentina," pontificates the Gazzottola.
No. No, no, no, no, we have not understood. Merit MESSI. You made that is good, not Argentina. Not Barcelona. When there is to reward the best team, discuss this issue again, but the Ballon d'Or is the prize awarded to the best player in the world. The player. gio.ca.to.re. the individual, the name on the jersey, two feet. A logical, if the best player in the world play in Terni, the Ballon d'rightful, and everything else is useless and rhetorically bla bla.
Where is written that the world champions must necessarily include the best player in the world? Okay, yes, we say it is theoretically possible, but this dictatorship of the psychological world is ridiculous. And it seems that South Africa has been forgotten in this year's Ballon d'Or, rather: there is and how, in so far as Iniesta did not deserve to win just because he scored the winning goal now nauseating, to the extent that there is no better than Xavi Sneijder in absolute terms, yet there he is, is the extent that Messi is a monster and deserves to be where there is not even with Argentina reached the top of the world.
then, the 11 proposed fab in the evening are pretty much the training that has taken a lot of slaps in the teeth from Portugal, and except for three whole Barbie Cri that for once he was on the right side of the Iberian Peninsula. There is also Casillas. Yes, yes, the one that reads Moccia and has taken five waves in the first match of the season seriously. You would have thought?
And then come and tell the world that has been ignored.
Mourinho has outperformed Del Bosque, and thank you very much, and if the campiooooooni the world have returned home empty-handed there is a reason, and no, kids, is not always because the world is ugly and bad.
So this year, the prize to the greatest footballer the world has gone to the greatest footballer in the world. Stuff you would not believe, I do not I make a right. Tonight I will not close my eyes thinking about how horrible life.
is not evil, never mind. That is, if you please, including the three I choose the Gallardo, eh?
Friday, January 7, 2011
I Had An X-ray And Computer Virus
like Mexico
Title: Hot like Mexico
Author: Stateira
Beta: Noneeeee
Fandom
Original Characters / Pairing: Alejandro / Fernando / Robert
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Although original, the characters are not mine. What a sad thing. Needless to say, are taken from the song "Alejandro" of Lady Gaga, I did not write myself, although I would have liked. I love you, Gaga! COC
Notes: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of fanfic_italia . The evil prompt is "Do not call my name / I'm not your babe."
Brandy was first choice, but it was the only alcohol that was in the house, and Fernando did not like her at all take taste of wood. She asked him a soda ice, praying that Alejandro does not he come out with a of his usual comments about how it was baby.
Alejandro's house was probably the most beautiful city, with a view of Acapulco Bay as to bring tears to the eyes. The room had one wall made of glass, giving access to the terrace where they had dinner together almost every night, sometimes alone, with certain other hazardous friends of the landlord.
But this time, three of them were together again. Robert threw himself on one of ocher-colored leather sofas and watched them with his usual calm and amused expression, which is particularly illuminating whenever Fernando showed signs of unease and impatience.
They were in secret once a week, without her, to make their game. Since they discovered each other, came quite naturally, jealousy and the sense of competition had not even ever born among them. Was bound to mean that things with her, were already a disaster. They had their consulates
little desire to live at least finding some 'dignity of the one between the legs of the other. It was not a question of money, but of heart, despite Alejandro was the only one of them to have a salary - and salary - and do not settle for the maintenance of luxury. Pride you shut up with two thousand dollars in cash, but the real issue is sex, knowing that doing so those two thousand dollars is really the only reason why the rise pants. There is no pleasure, no interest, nothing.
In the end, the pleasure and interest he was discovered in their little exclusive club, where she had as the rain outside the window, and Alejandro for this often pause to look at along the sky.
And Fernando was tired of staying to listen to his crap on her, that among them was almost over and that she and her fucking cigarettes would be gone soon. And Roberto
watched them with a wax melancholy, because he knew to be the number three for everyone. He was the strongest, not her, she did not know what the hell to do with his life, and every other day was going to cry one or the other, pretending to be a strong woman who was not threatening to leave them when the love ' only thing that could seriously threaten them was to starve them. Fernando, after all, he understood her frustration, because he shared on the other side of the river, could boast of being one with which she had cut off the hard way.
Alejandro was the only who still believe it: we had such a fear of being caught with his hands in his pants that if Fernando is married too soon.
Fernando hated his cowardice. He adjusted the collar of pure white linen shirt and went to sit with Robert in his arms, displaying a series of isospiri calcolatissimi what was comfortable there with him. Robert let him do as usual. On second thought, was a mystery why he, who had that so docile, he could put them both under the most natural. Fernando opened his legs and allowed him to shove his fingers in tight pants and friction the penis with the index. He groaned and shot a look at Alejandro fire. Roberto
stripped him completely, even socks. She put the twins of his shirt, which were a gift from her on the carpet, far enough away not to step on it. It took even his own, while Fernando was spread on the couch, right between her legs. It was the only completely naked, Roberto had kept his shirt unbuttoned her, and the rest to get sucked by him was not necessary to remove it. He stood still, waiting patiently for Fernando to take the place of his competence in his thighs and petting while distracted by a few caresses her hair. His encouragement produced some grumbling load of anticipation. Fernando shook the foundation of his fully erect penis between the thumb and forefinger, sliding in a puff the delicate skin that covered it. He licked his lips already hot, and put his tongue flat on any surface he could play. Robert stopped to pet it back with a groan to abandon completely satisfied and relaxed, and just then a gentle tinkle announced that Alejandro had thrown on the table her twins. Roberto spied him, concentrated, and analyzed the position of Fernando, his legs hanging awkwardly on the arm of the sofa and all of its trunk which moved back and forth to lick Roberto.
The system as preferred, making him bend his knees under the bust. Fernando weakly protested because he was missing the clutch of the couch, the only contact that would give a little 'to relieve his erection. Alejandro did not allow him to move, in fact, pushed his head on the groin of Robert, forcing him to take it all in her mouth. While he thanked him with a groan sound, he settled in behind Fernando knee, poised, quietly contemplating his ass fully exposed to him.
- Tell me it is. - Robert whispered.
- Magnificent, as always. - Replied dryly.
At that moment, Fernando turned the corner of my eye, and provocation with liquid look, full of need. His face was all red arrogant to stress and excitement, and every bird suck the shape of Robert protruded from under his cheek, enveloped by a thick sheath. Alejandro's pressed a finger on his left shoulder, and from there he made a slow start and precisely along the spine, following the waves formed by the up and down his spine. Fernando whimpered and almost stepped away from the mouth of Robert the penis, trying to arch as much as possible to follow the electric wave triggered by the touch of Alejandro.
- Come on! - Gasped.
did not have to beg.
Alejandro leaned backwards until you find the perfect spot from which it can take, and when Fernando went inside and ate literally sobbed throughout the erection of Roberto. He jumped out of reflex, almost suffocating him, before I can tacitly agree with Alejandro rhythm: before he's one file away, pushing him forward, toward him, and then if you take back, making darting out almost entirely. Fernando soon lost control of his reflexes, and his mouth filled with saliva so that now everything was wet crotch of Robert, shiny and sticky and made the surrounding areas. Taken to torture in the glans with the tip of the tongue, earning a prize by Alejandro who raised her pelvis vigorously to throw it open completely. He and Roberto
looked, without any difficulty sharing the feeling of domination and enjoyment perfect electric threesomes. Touched by Fernando ideally without the need for do anything that was not to go into his hole and his mouth to reach them.
Roberto was the first to be defeated by the breaths of the cold breath of Fernando soaked to the skin, the softness of her throat which beat violently against the glans. Fernando coughed out a bit 'of his suit, and the sensation of suffocating her contract did everything and come with power in the legs of Roberto. Slumped forward, letting you take his Alejandro, orgasm. It did not take too much, looking at the body of Fernando undone that quivered with each thrust, over-stimulation, while Roberto's restored with paternal care a tuft of hair that had fallen on his face.
For a while, 'stay there, in silence to share the feeling that three was the perfect number.
- You have not yet figured out our game? -
- No, Fernando. -
- What a fool. -
Fernando leaned lazily over Roberto, who was giggling, and grabbed the fly stranded two twins, who were not the ones he was wearing before.
- How do you not notice? She gave them to us! -
- You probably do not even remember who gave what. - Alejandro said, bored. Soon, he taped over your mouth with something sufficiently laborious that he would go the urge to complain.
- even us we remember. - Roberto said quietly. - It's all part of the game, next week we will exchange them again and again. And when they notice, we will tell the truth. -
Alejandro stood behind him nodded quite obvious, but Fernando did not stop mucking around with the twins, without looking. He was tired, really.
Title: Hot like Mexico
Author: Stateira
Beta: Noneeeee
Fandom
Original Characters / Pairing: Alejandro / Fernando / Robert
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Although original, the characters are not mine. What a sad thing. Needless to say, are taken from the song "Alejandro" of Lady Gaga, I did not write myself, although I would have liked. I love you, Gaga! COC
Notes: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of
fanfic_italia . The evil prompt is "Do not call my name / I'm not your babe." Brandy was first choice, but it was the only alcohol that was in the house, and Fernando did not like her at all take taste of wood. She asked him a soda ice, praying that Alejandro does not he come out with a of his usual comments about how it was baby.
Alejandro's house was probably the most beautiful city, with a view of Acapulco Bay as to bring tears to the eyes. The room had one wall made of glass, giving access to the terrace where they had dinner together almost every night, sometimes alone, with certain other hazardous friends of the landlord.
But this time, three of them were together again. Robert threw himself on one of ocher-colored leather sofas and watched them with his usual calm and amused expression, which is particularly illuminating whenever Fernando showed signs of unease and impatience.
They were in secret once a week, without her, to make their game. Since they discovered each other, came quite naturally, jealousy and the sense of competition had not even ever born among them. Was bound to mean that things with her, were already a disaster. They had their consulates
little desire to live at least finding some 'dignity of the one between the legs of the other. It was not a question of money, but of heart, despite Alejandro was the only one of them to have a salary - and salary - and do not settle for the maintenance of luxury. Pride you shut up with two thousand dollars in cash, but the real issue is sex, knowing that doing so those two thousand dollars is really the only reason why the rise pants. There is no pleasure, no interest, nothing.
In the end, the pleasure and interest he was discovered in their little exclusive club, where she had as the rain outside the window, and Alejandro for this often pause to look at along the sky.
And Fernando was tired of staying to listen to his crap on her, that among them was almost over and that she and her fucking cigarettes would be gone soon. And Roberto
watched them with a wax melancholy, because he knew to be the number three for everyone. He was the strongest, not her, she did not know what the hell to do with his life, and every other day was going to cry one or the other, pretending to be a strong woman who was not threatening to leave them when the love ' only thing that could seriously threaten them was to starve them. Fernando, after all, he understood her frustration, because he shared on the other side of the river, could boast of being one with which she had cut off the hard way.
Alejandro was the only who still believe it: we had such a fear of being caught with his hands in his pants that if Fernando is married too soon.
Fernando hated his cowardice. He adjusted the collar of pure white linen shirt and went to sit with Robert in his arms, displaying a series of isospiri calcolatissimi what was comfortable there with him. Robert let him do as usual. On second thought, was a mystery why he, who had that so docile, he could put them both under the most natural. Fernando opened his legs and allowed him to shove his fingers in tight pants and friction the penis with the index. He groaned and shot a look at Alejandro fire. Roberto
stripped him completely, even socks. She put the twins of his shirt, which were a gift from her on the carpet, far enough away not to step on it. It took even his own, while Fernando was spread on the couch, right between her legs. It was the only completely naked, Roberto had kept his shirt unbuttoned her, and the rest to get sucked by him was not necessary to remove it. He stood still, waiting patiently for Fernando to take the place of his competence in his thighs and petting while distracted by a few caresses her hair. His encouragement produced some grumbling load of anticipation. Fernando shook the foundation of his fully erect penis between the thumb and forefinger, sliding in a puff the delicate skin that covered it. He licked his lips already hot, and put his tongue flat on any surface he could play. Robert stopped to pet it back with a groan to abandon completely satisfied and relaxed, and just then a gentle tinkle announced that Alejandro had thrown on the table her twins. Roberto spied him, concentrated, and analyzed the position of Fernando, his legs hanging awkwardly on the arm of the sofa and all of its trunk which moved back and forth to lick Roberto.
The system as preferred, making him bend his knees under the bust. Fernando weakly protested because he was missing the clutch of the couch, the only contact that would give a little 'to relieve his erection. Alejandro did not allow him to move, in fact, pushed his head on the groin of Robert, forcing him to take it all in her mouth. While he thanked him with a groan sound, he settled in behind Fernando knee, poised, quietly contemplating his ass fully exposed to him.
- Tell me it is. - Robert whispered.
- Magnificent, as always. - Replied dryly.
At that moment, Fernando turned the corner of my eye, and provocation with liquid look, full of need. His face was all red arrogant to stress and excitement, and every bird suck the shape of Robert protruded from under his cheek, enveloped by a thick sheath. Alejandro's pressed a finger on his left shoulder, and from there he made a slow start and precisely along the spine, following the waves formed by the up and down his spine. Fernando whimpered and almost stepped away from the mouth of Robert the penis, trying to arch as much as possible to follow the electric wave triggered by the touch of Alejandro.
- Come on! - Gasped.
did not have to beg.
Alejandro leaned backwards until you find the perfect spot from which it can take, and when Fernando went inside and ate literally sobbed throughout the erection of Roberto. He jumped out of reflex, almost suffocating him, before I can tacitly agree with Alejandro rhythm: before he's one file away, pushing him forward, toward him, and then if you take back, making darting out almost entirely. Fernando soon lost control of his reflexes, and his mouth filled with saliva so that now everything was wet crotch of Robert, shiny and sticky and made the surrounding areas. Taken to torture in the glans with the tip of the tongue, earning a prize by Alejandro who raised her pelvis vigorously to throw it open completely. He and Roberto
looked, without any difficulty sharing the feeling of domination and enjoyment perfect electric threesomes. Touched by Fernando ideally without the need for do anything that was not to go into his hole and his mouth to reach them.
Roberto was the first to be defeated by the breaths of the cold breath of Fernando soaked to the skin, the softness of her throat which beat violently against the glans. Fernando coughed out a bit 'of his suit, and the sensation of suffocating her contract did everything and come with power in the legs of Roberto. Slumped forward, letting you take his Alejandro, orgasm. It did not take too much, looking at the body of Fernando undone that quivered with each thrust, over-stimulation, while Roberto's restored with paternal care a tuft of hair that had fallen on his face.
For a while, 'stay there, in silence to share the feeling that three was the perfect number.
- You have not yet figured out our game? -
- No, Fernando. -
- What a fool. -
Fernando leaned lazily over Roberto, who was giggling, and grabbed the fly stranded two twins, who were not the ones he was wearing before.
- How do you not notice? She gave them to us! -
- You probably do not even remember who gave what. - Alejandro said, bored. Soon, he taped over your mouth with something sufficiently laborious that he would go the urge to complain.
- even us we remember. - Roberto said quietly. - It's all part of the game, next week we will exchange them again and again. And when they notice, we will tell the truth. -
Alejandro stood behind him nodded quite obvious, but Fernando did not stop mucking around with the twins, without looking. He was tired, really.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
How To Make Arabbit Hut
(What if) he's the one
Title: (What if) he's the one
Author: Stateira
Beta: Noneeeee
Fandom RPF Football - English National
Characters / Pairing: Iker Casillas / Carles Puyol (always Puyillas question)
Rating: mmmh. R?
Warnings:
Disclaimer: are not mine. Carles belongs to Catalonia, and Iker belongs to Carles. I only own a pug dog and imagination.
Notes: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of fanfic_italia . The evil prompt is "authority". And Bannerozzo below was created in collaboration with ![[info]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_uSdA6mfDPwiX7QvTqJKCXyuVN1c1T6EljTfQaw93eyYdJP9Q1zLI4K232iwkvU6JLK2PR6H8h0Nj0tPjrwAG_vEhg6Ct7ZUbommsX4PjxJMbqaew=s0-d)
janetmourfaaill which is always so dear.
Title: (What if) he's the one
Author: Stateira
Beta: Noneeeee
Fandom RPF Football - English National
Characters / Pairing: Iker Casillas / Carles Puyol (always Puyillas question)
Rating: mmmh. R?
Warnings:
Disclaimer: are not mine. Carles belongs to Catalonia, and Iker belongs to Carles. I only own a pug dog and imagination.
Notes: This stuff here is written for the p0rn fest of
fanfic_italia . The evil prompt is "authority". And Bannerozzo below was created in collaboration with janetmourfaaill which is always so dear.
Carles Puyol What is an institution in the field is unquestioned. It is much more of a captain, he belongs to a nearly extinct breed of leaders who can cross the field running to be the first to hug after a goal, or get punched in the head if you combine some disaster. He has the gift of a parent there without ever being intrusive, and hearing it in, when you need something.
younger kids always ask if they are nervous before the match, which respond yes or no, he sits two minutes with them, and do not know how, eventually, come in all fields with feet of fire determination.
beginning, it was very complicated relationship with him. Iker has had to face his natural suspicion that even his face "Hey, I'm the good character of history" has scratched. Carles is simply not convinced the clarity of human beings, and especially those who know best: the players. To do this, Iker has resulted in the only way that Carles had accepted from him, he raised his hands in plain sight and it is coated in without a word, letting him do whatever he wanted.
If he lived it wrong? Well, Catalan and his side of the marble experience than, say, you can even make the effort to endure.
Carles is rather abrupt in his manner, because its sweetness if it brings it in as a ransom to be paid little time. Iker can not think of anything more valuable than something as air, hidden in his curls like a reflection.
The It took all the patience in the world, to subdue him, and sometimes he just thought it was impossible to get because of its liquid eyes and resolute. With hindsight, it can be said to be happy to be a sentimental shit, and allowing the feelings to enter the field from the first minute. Carles has no doubts that he would never let the evil win, the double play, something that did not speak the same language as the disarming of his emotions.
now trust him. Approaching slowly, as is done with the wildlife of the woods, offering all his wisdom and his sincerity, stripping the smiles from photographs, Iker has done her day after day, one beer after another, word by word and only at the end, as a trophy, even her body is open to his hands, with millions of reserves and secrets.
The point is that. The point is that when you put Iker's between her legs, her eyes always passes through a flash of panic.
You can not miss a moment, that it goes like a snap, because he does not like to appear so vulnerable. Iker remembers the first time he has managed, with kindness, to reverse their positions, to roll over and tell him that he wanted to Carles entrargli inside as he had never wanted anything. His eyes were wide open the wounded that night, because they seemed to shred all the confidence that had gained so far. But he went on, resolute in wanting to bring along a new and very deep, where sex would find its natural place between the kisses, between the hours on the couch listening to music together, including the long talks and lunch together at the restaurant.
E Carles had completely understood, and had joined, walking with him as equals.
The flash of panic remains, although now spend hours and hours in bed, to move in perfect sync, you get the most pleasure from even the most subtle gestures of the fingers on the abdominal thesis, thrilling one another without inhibition, to explore both the pleasures of the body and intense eyes. That flash by now, it's only erotic Iker, who knows that to turn it off you must kiss the neck of a bull until it come Carles skin goose. He also learned that just begins to push his penis against the tight ring of muscles, nipples are swelling now Carles, and assume a flattened shape in horizontal curious if made to be crushed between his lips. Carles has nipples incredibly receptive to any type of stimulation: the left one is amazing, because as soon as Iker passes over the tongue and sucking it from under you hear his heart pumping furiously taking.
Over time, Carles had to face facts that Iker knows how to enjoy it in a thousand different ways: with his erection hot, first of all, with his perfect way to push inside of him without hurting him, despite the strength with which crashed into her pelvis. He holds it open with your hands to stretch all their nerves, and the first thrust, those still argue, drawing small circles inside of him that are crying blood in his ears. But it's the strokes that make the difference. They are the kissing that gives him on the shoulder, lost and confused, and totally, totally honest.
Carles is not nice, and does not feel good. Only Iker, Iker among all people of the universe, can make him feel wanted. Iker is just really crazy about its chips wild its thick lips and wide, awkward in his face, and this has upset the balance of power in bed, but also outside.
They no longer need to prove who is captain of the other. Carles maintains his charisma even when he is planted inside Iker and it does scream of pleasure. Because it allows him to do so, and why Iker has earned the right to do so. Are equivalent so that every gesture of their blends to create the purest antidote to any doubt.
Every time he touches it, it is to tell him that is his, and he will gladly take care of what he sees. The disarming smile that makes him be his after coming in, his "wow" swelled with emotion and embarrassment, is how to have sex with Iker.
And he wants more, more, more.
Sink your fingers into Iker's shoulder blades, and it seems that it is not enough, that nothing in the world will never be quite as deep as they are pushed her in that moment. And it's completely, wonderfully, totally happy, and the orgasm is the most powerful cry of abandonment of his life, and it is for him.
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