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When a woman…
When a woman decides to go to bed with a man, there is no obstacle she won’t jump, no fortress she won’t knock down, no moral consideration she isn’t willing to overcome for the foundation.
When a woman decides to go to bed with a man, there is no obstacle she won’t jump, no fortress she won’t knock down, no moral consideration she isn’t willing to overcome for the foundation.
Every type of sign, whether given by words or straps, it doesn’t matter, is a personal growth.
You can carry them with pride or feel mortified by them, personally I experience every scar with transport and awareness and for this I am grateful.
No man can fall in love with a woman who has not imagined himself naked and in the most unthinkable sexual positions.
No woman can fall in love with a man who has not fallen prey to these sensations, unleashing the libido, for her.
According to a recent study, half of men think about sex up to twenty times a day. The other half, on the other hand, thinks about it only once, but for sixteen consecutive hours
I don’t care what people think of me.
I don’t care if the person who broke free inside me thinks I’m just another slut who doesn’t care.
I don’t care about anyone’s opinion.
I and I alone know how much desire to satisfy me he can have. It is I who uses the world and not it me.
Desiring to live, feel, get excited and have the courage to make mistakes.
Desiring to experience sex, in all its forms and different intensities.
Having to show themselves as saints, knowing how to properly instigate the demon of those they have chosen to indulge in.
We were free and happy.
Only the old ones, out of envy, criticize the debauchery of those who still have so much to be passionate about.
I can’t express the cravings coursing through my body. I can’t use that direct way of telling me that you want me. I’ll tell you with a photo and, now, can you hurry and come to me?
Ode to good wine. Ode to beautiful women.
A woman and a glass of wine satisfy every need; he who doesn’t drink and kiss is worse than dead.
After all, we know well that wine and women lead even the wise astray.
Do you still wonder why red is considered the colour of Passion?
“Every book has a soul, the soul of the person who wrote it and the soul of those who read it and dream about it.”