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There is no anxiety, trepidation, or expectation in my soul, although I know for sure what should happen in a few minutes.
08: 52 AM “And the sound of thunder.”
I feel your appearance at the very beginning of the corridor, I feel the magnetic vibration of the floor from the small, very not impressive steps, light and insecure.
A glimpse, a meaningless greeting — and I feel hot.
I know that you will immediately evaporate, and I will have some time to pull myself together and, upon your next appearance, pour a wave of cold contempt.
So are the days: under the hoarfrost indifference, filled with sharp pieces of hidden mockery.
I HATE YOU! 2 For what? Believe me – not from scratch.
Suppose, unconsciously, you did what you could not do to me.
Under no circumstances.
I hate you for never being in my place, never in my body, never understanding many sensations, never knowing what it is like to be such a woman.
SUCH means unusual, not the same as the vast

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majority of frigid marasmatics and hysterical fools on their heads.
You know, if a good tooth fairy offered me (for the fact that I treat my teeth in a private clinic) as a discount to a regular customer, one single desire, then I would prefer a banal exchange of bodies for a couple of weeks to all the treasures of the world.
Only in this way would we be in the calculation for the suffering caused to me.
And everything will be fine.
In the female body can also live.

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Just breathe, just move.
You get used to.
Or just it seems? I could explain endlessly, you will never penetrate anyway, you will never understand even a hundredth part of what makes you feel.
Of course, this feeling is the least like a headache or nausea; just an infectious disease with fever and chills, dryness and burning in the throat, difficulty breathing.
Anxiety symptoms.
But most of all it resembles magnetism.
If there is the attraction of living flesh, then it certainly is.
Sometimes it seems to me that it really is.
True.
Otherwise, how do I feel it? It would be funny and strange, probably, to see yourself from the outside.
For some reason, people never fully understand how beautiful they are.
They simply do not see their obvious merits and do not know how to love what seems to them obvious shortcomings.
Do you want me to tell how my eyes see you? Your image excites me, even when you are not around.
I close my eyes and, as if in reality, I see a fragile body in a wrap of jeans slipping from the bottom of my jeans and a shapeless plaid shirt.
Any clothes on you seem alien shell.
You live separately from her, and the lines of the body are guessed unmistakably (at least by me).
Small stature, lean build, retaining childhood patina, slightly bulging shoulders, elbows, pelvic bones, small steps, (sigh).
DREAM OF A PEDOPHILE! Fortunately, in the prevailing way of an infantile sexual object, I refuse to distinguish between a mature, mature, and, no doubt, an interesting personality.
I do not see her and do not want to understand you.
It is much more pleasant to take you as an attachment to a member, reveling in fantasies about your innocence and naive desires, which, in fact, have not been so pure and attractive for a long time.
You are not interested in me.
I don’t need a love that you don’t believe in, or loyalty that has no value for both of us.
Is it only mutual respect, although where does he come from here? No, I do not dream of feelings.
I NEED YOUR BODY, your body and nothing else.
At such moments, I hate for what happens to me, and you – for the fact that you are the cause of these experiences. My camera porn.

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