The Mouth

With the certainty of its proper I, probably what it some time would like to feel, was not the will of if to become fort and that desire of if hiding, when tomorrow that already he came he compelled it there to invent one now that he became passed and that it wanted to become so was alone this. An shout in the night. The taste in the mouth moves to it with the directions, anxious perhaps enojado, it is lost simply enters the certainty of me the quality of the wine or of the flavor that did not want to have proven. Nothing of what it makes in that night it touches at least in its virility. It felt it well there, it was felt well there and suddenly it could be praised coming back to undo all the encetados steps has minutes, to change them for assayed certezas and to forget that taste that already does not obtain to take off of its lips. Definitively it would have to invent something better.

Freed I smell of it of that body that slept in the bed that had partilhado, the search of a direction that only thought to find in the pleasure and the simple fact of if finding of knees, to the search of one pega, with the hands you seat in the soil, offered to its memory an image ridicule, when years before it makes love with the formerones of optimum friend and it does not have time to take off the shoes. It raises the head and it beats in the bed, balls were magnificent shoes of candle and I age one grandessssimo beto. Cruzes& Soutien finds pega rolled up in one green and recoups the reason. Raised, the look looks the mirror in the anxiety to find something more than what the naked body that goes to find.