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Yes, yes, yes, on the floor.
(I inserted my middle finger into my pussy, I touched the clitoris with my thumb).
You tear off my clothes, say that you need to be more accommodating, I resist, you completely tear off my clothes and take me right on the floor.
(I move my finger in an already slippery pussy, caressing my chest alternately.
Yeah) No, I’m not married, not because I’m terrible or a bitch, I just don’t need a husband in most life situations, but now I’m in need of him.

I want to feel part of it within myself.
This is not the end, just the rest had to be removed, it became embarrassing for what was written.
I will add sometime more decently.
Hello, my reader.
I had a desire to tell about myself.
You can take this series of stories as a diary, but only on sex.

I understand that not everyone is interested in long presentations, so impatient readers may well skip the next few paragraphs.
However, in order to better understand my further revelations, it is advisable to have at least the most general idea about me, my life and my passions.
I was born and raised in Moscow.
I do not remember my mother, she died when I was still in infancy.
So my dad and grandparents took care of my upbringing.
My dad always earned good money and we never really needed.
It is clear that we are not oligarchs from Rublevka, but still, a treshka in the west of Moscow, a good car and a holiday abroad allowed me to consider myself quite settled in life.
Perhaps now is the time to think about buying your own home, but so far I can not afford it.

From my very early childhood, Dad never entered my room without permission.
I believe that this is correct, yet I am a girl, and he is a man, although my father.
I got used to the fact that my room is exclusively my territory, and I could walk naked, climb porn sites or play cards with the guy for desires on the net with the camera turned on.
It so happened that from early childhood, I read a lot.
Of course, no longer classics, but adventures and detective stories, fantasy and fantasy.
And, as it is not strange, erotic literature.
Emmanuel Arsan I discovered at the age of 13, Henry Miller at 14.
When I was still a gentle teenager, I read almost all the “classic” erotica, but my interest in the topic of sex and sexuality did not fade, but only developed.
Latina babe webcam.