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When couples are fucking've learned that there is a sweet moment to intervene ... if it is too early, when they first start the action, there may be a rejection, as if they are already very close to coming ... however, after approximately minutes, already heated, and amuses them, they are interested, or do not care ...

and that couple who had already approached us some time, we did not know how much. I touch your chest to her, not reject me, put his hand on his chest in white, and touched a little. The two, Blanca and I were not going to repeat, did we come closer, I like to touch the girl while fucking, but this was not the day ...

White was with, was at ease, but since then the situation got me ... and White, which gently caress me. Please do not hesitate to tell you: go, see, I got over it, and I sank softly, sweetly. Forgetting the world, ignoring the brunette who shouted at us, a guy who tried to intervene at a time and who said no ... to Love is true that his body felt open, wet, receptive, but was yet his eyes more than her tits, more aware of your mouth that your sex ... We made love with love, desire, love ... like two friends, like two lovers.

I think we think of a beach (yes, the Mediterranean, we guess all in an ocean beach, is the Atlantic or Pacific), return it to the beach, the sun is shining, and are naked, I'm a bit embarrassed not so much my naked, my body, a little too round, a little too pendant. I look young, golden, glorious sun, your blond Peline pointing, highlighting the way of your sex, tattoo, small, discreet, solar shades (red, yellow), circular (not what it is, I do not see well from here, perhaps a flower, perhaps an imaginary animal, I looked for you, we chose a tattoo together in Old Town) between the navel and the pubis.

You left the water now, even the drops salt glow on your skin, I approach you, I put my lips on your arm, I notice the taste pleasant, salty taste that I so remember your family, the sound of the waves, slow , strong, smooth as an act of love that had no end. Go around the arm to the elbow crease, deposited there a kiss that makes you goosebumps, you strawberries dark nipples, makes a shiver of desire through your body. I lift my eyes, I see you looking at my face, your eyes fixed on mine. Your lips move, dumb, I know what they're saying two words: I love you.

I get up, I take you by the hand, walked two in the water is warm, embracing us, we traveled, hidden from us, we look and we joined in a kiss endless. You feel my urgency, my desire strongly upright against your thighs, take it gently with her hand, stroking, shape it, open your legs a bit and insert it into your body, gently, slowly and at the same time, with all the force the sea. We move slowly in a dance accompanied by the waves, pushing and being pushed by them.

I whisper: we be seeing? it clear that we are probably also imagine what we are doing, but from the waist up are a couple - one more - that kiss in the water. And my body feels the unstoppable rise of pleasure, you know me, know read me, you see that close my eyes, my body is tense, spend your legs behind my waist, knotting, the squeeze, I feel your body hugging my sex, hard, hits, joyfully. I can no longer move, although my pelvis sink you, penetrates you, punches you when you feel suddenly, within you, my light, my sun, my essence you bathe. Stay, I say, do not move, feel me how you feel. We are one.

Barcelona, ​​Galicia, 2010

Well, now the survey of rigor ...

I loved the image of my hand between the bra and the breast ... no bra even more than the dream continues ...

felt in the back of the soft tissue hand, and fingers of your skin ... go curve, feeling the change of consistency from your silk to the sour grapes of the nipple, the wrinkles, the fingers do the darker color , around it, gently pinched, make that stand ... and yes, yes, once taken possession while gently caress it, I feel your hand is investigating where the waist of the briefs, finding it, gliding toward her like a creeping serpent, as my body tense in anticipation.

Find what you want, embrace him, surround him, casualties continued to eggs, takes, the balance, but I prefer the top, and me too. I seek your other nipple, I notice that his chest, to leave slack in the bra, so that the hand easily find what they crave ... I find, I wonder if I should try to get on the clothes, I decide that maybe you loosen the subjects, click Now your two breasts are loose under her blouse, my hand can go from one to another, stumbling over the hanging of the jaguar in its path .. I caress the nipples with the palm of the hand, only the nipples, a touch sensitive ... but you can not, your body bends and sockets to mine ... hold in your mouth before you tell me ... will endure, sky, will endure, but do not move much, do not walk much my cock with your lips up and down how are you doing while your tongue play with my frenulum ... feel the tension in my body, I suspect that these tasting my salt ... I like it so ... do not want me cum in your mouth, it gives you a little scared because you've also felt my stomach hardened ... you retire, look at me and smiled, trying to caress between your legs ... no, not yet, then ...

Back to ring my cock with your fingers down. You go up, squeezing, making it appear a drop in the tip, bright, transparent. Touch it with your finger, you separate yourself from my body, gout, reflective, stretches between your finger and my cock, uniting them in a light bridge

Well, now the survey of rigor ...

I have searched for graphic support, but I do not think you need to see a picture of a man by becoming a straw, and if a woman, while being much nicer, does not contribute much to this post. Even so, the posting because I feel pretty

And do not talk about male masturbation techniques, which you follow me you read the post about the egg masturbate, and those who do not want to believe they have discovered how.

No, I will discuss something that is more complicated, and if we can get a straw bed with your partner present (which is very different to be our partner who we make it).

I must say, first, that although I considered myself very sexually liberated, the first time, after a reasonably good powder in the same bed and even catch my breath, I began to masturbate, my partner was crying in the locked bathroom. And I, at that time did not understand. I do not understand now how could she be so insensitive.

The fact is that making love is one thing and another jerk, and not one is a substitute for other, not mutually exclusive but complementary. When I love, I'm more distracted, her movements and mine will not always beat at one point, when I'm ready, she can change the pace or the position, and must restart. I am more aware of your pleasure of mine. However, when I masturbate I am myself. Nothing more, no worries or anything foreign to my own body. It is, I must admit, difficult to accept that we have not completely satisfied, but for cultural reasons. It is assumed that intercourse is the summum of sex, and probably is, according to whom, according to that condition. But sex is much more complex than say: I have couple, fuck, we are satisfied, we do not need anything else.

Sex is communication with others and with oneself. Download aggressive sex, sex can be, well, love.

I beg you, my little grasshopper, you not believe a rebound crush to see your partner in bed (once You may perhaps have suspected that goes to the bathroom do not want to find out). Do not you take it as an offense, on the contrary, take it from mannitol, accompany them, which is also an act of love. Excite you, I like it too.

And the same for you my dear saltamontecitos, if after run, when you dorms, entresueños you notice a vibration on her side, do not try Montarés over, well you approach it, abrazaditos, that if, without being distracted, but showing your love for her and what she does. Not least given you my word of honor.

You take your hand and you (yes, free) to your partner, to see that you accept.

Related Topic: Simulation as an act of love

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I put a short story I found in a blog. Now I find the author, but little word of the child Jesus, to put it in the locate

Today we will pretend that I'm gone, I'm not and you do not exist.
- Does it seem funny?
- Funny, ... no.
- Ya, but it hurts
- To me, not

Well I find beautiful ...

As we said yesterday that falling in love was lost over time, and there was no need for continuous contact, and we wondered what would happen if love was over. And no, it's over in love, and you can keep - or not - love.

Difference? falling in love we are enthralled by an image we have of someone who does not really know and want to discover. And we fill in the blanks in the personality of another, the whites of all that we do not know it, so we'd like it to be.

If you propose we go hiking excursion, and accept (for care), and we will make the happiest person in the world because he likes what he did to us. If you like film, is delighted at the meeting aim of the battleship Potemkin, more intellectual when he had seen was Police Academy-7

And so we see the person loved with our desires. Like a Christmas tree we got naked from the store, and you're getting a star glitter here, here an angel, here wreaths, a little snow here, until it covers the entire tree, and is something this:

and of course, fall rendered. But not to the person, but before the image that we have made of it. From what I did not know it and we have put us, that was a fan of Madrid, who liked heavy metal band, or your best interest to stay at home watching TV.

That is, can only be in love with a stranger.

Because as time passes and we get to know us, we see that fails to accompany us to tread caps, or the Bernabeu, but instead a passion flower growing or philately, and that his greatest happiness is to move the Finder by cuttings or analyzing the Scott, which, as you all know without a doubt the philatelic catalog reference USA. And falling from the tree are now a star, now a glass ball shatters on the floor. But that is not bad, but good. Finally, below is the bare tree, the person as is, as was at first, before the adornasemos with our wishes.

And this person, real, is the person we want. We're not in love with an image, a symbol, we want a real person, with his virtues and his faults. If we bother to snore or not a stick into the water, ran out of love and love there will not be there. If your snoring find endearing, and we feel sexy we wake up at night to attack in the dark, or your unwillingness to work is compensated with which she can sing cheerful Neapolitan songs, and that's what we love, infatuation will result in love. That is much deeper (although they affect less hormones, which is a shame)

True love is accepting the other as it is, in love as we would like it to be.

the first link

I borrow the title of a book of Alberoni. He made me discover the duality of feelings between infatuation and love. Blog is a complicated, which will probably be painting the various posts throughout the different aspects of something that is difficult to define. What is infatuation? what is love? are two degrees of the same, such as big and huge? are two aspects of the same, such as water and ice? or are really different things, different feelings?

Let me explain. We've all been in love once, and have to be in contact (physical, telephone) continued with the beloved. Thousand calls a day, zillions of text messages, emails, letters ... and we thought when we were separated from him, we needed air to breathe, we had a hole in the chest.

Over time, continuing the relationship, we (or not) to live together, is irrelevant, after two or three years, this dependency of the emails, the other person is no longer so pressing, it has smoothing. We realize that we cost more or cost us less, but the other no longer occupies the space in our thoughts. We can think of a labor strategy, a change of car, or just in something else not related to the beloved.

What happened? love is gone? no, we still want the other person. This person she was in love (I'll talk in male, may be in love if you are female) is still there, living with us, being the father of our children, our loving home favorite has set and is not ours, is equal to case. The fact is that we want, not custom, but really, with physical desire, wanting to be close, with laughter, tears, arguments and generally everything that makes a life.

But we can survive but we have not spoken with the last two hours.

Where are we? where is the sense of loss felt? we want less?

No, I want different. We can say "I'm in love with him / her," but that "I'm in love" is not the'm in love with the first six months. Is, say, an adult I'm in love, for I am in love with a teenager. And age has nothing to do, I have seen teenage crushes, worthy of Twilight, at fifty

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