500
HER WITH HIM - Roma and a series of books ...
< Anshe
The sun ripens as mangoes, and pouring juice on the sheet,
five minutes to eight on Saturdays it smells like coffee.
He charms of grains outside the door,
perekriknuv Elvis on the radio: "You take a nap ... ''
He goes to her ... "Oh no, tired me, Utomi ..."
"You're Done ..." He puts on the floor, laughing: "Do not drop,"
hanging over her ... "Wait a minute, wait a minute Well, call ..."
And the hand of the phone ... He kisses her brow, and
it becomes either to call or to coffee, she do not care ...
And his quiet laughter pierces her armor ...
Phone where coffee dymitsya- in their bare feet,
where casually entwined heel snake camouflage of T-shirts,
lumpy scarf spiral shiny belt of trousers.
She has not closed facebook, rattles messages laptop,
but it has already become nugoyu under pressure from young hands ...
On the floor, cigarettes, cold coffee, besparny his sock.
He is so young and juicy, a little brash and low.
He sits, she hugs her back, in the facebook flash huskies.
She reaches for a cigarette, humming with a smile, saying, guessing
but what I want right now, making a playful "Smack",
gentle moan with a question mark can be, no?
The bust is not small and resilient and nalit- he notes on the go ...
And it is not to hide the face of expensive purchases kremy-,
collagen. Swallows lumps, looking at young girls,
realizing that he is even more than just a verse,
she with him, and romance, and a series of books ... and his hand covers light,
and the second covers her mouth to scream your negate ....
He kisses between the eyebrows, gently whispers: "That's all go ..."
... And by the door leans his forehead, step verse ... and sits in his hell
naked to the floor, whispering "there are no more such ..." And the plot flows ...
The sun ripens as mangoes, and pouring juice on the sheet,
five minutes to eight on Saturdays it smells like coffee.
He charms of grains outside the door,
perekriknuv Elvis on the radio: "You take a nap ... ''
He goes to her ... "Oh no, tired me, Utomi ..."
"You're Done ..." He puts on the floor, laughing: "Do not drop,"
hanging over her ... "Wait a minute, wait a minute Well, call ..."
And the hand of the phone ... He kisses her brow, and
it becomes either to call or to coffee, she do not care ...
And his quiet laughter pierces her armor ...
Phone where coffee dymitsya- in their bare feet,
where casually entwined heel snake camouflage of T-shirts,
lumpy scarf spiral shiny belt of trousers.
She has not closed facebook, rattles messages laptop,
but it has already become nugoyu under pressure from young hands ...
On the floor, cigarettes, cold coffee, besparny his sock.
He is so young and juicy, a little brash and low.
He sits, she hugs her back, in the facebook flash huskies.
She reaches for a cigarette, humming with a smile, saying, guessing
but what I want right now, making a playful "Smack",
gentle moan with a question mark can be, no?
The bust is not small and resilient and nalit- he notes on the go ...
And it is not to hide the face of expensive purchases kremy-,
collagen. Swallows lumps, looking at young girls,
realizing that he is even more than just a verse,
she with him, and romance, and a series of books ... and his hand covers light,
and the second covers her mouth to scream your negate ....
He kisses between the eyebrows, gently whispers: "That's all go ..."
... And by the door leans his forehead, step verse ... and sits in his hell
naked to the floor, whispering "there are no more such ..." And the plot flows ...