Showing posts with label UNF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UNF. Show all posts
30.9.11
reaction video
lugemispäeviku ja tänase ülipiduliku hieromantiusepäeva puhul!
pidupäeva puhul on täna veel tulemas ka vambipäevikute värske osa referaat!
9.9.11
lugemispäeviku 8.osa reaction video
Palju [tsenseeritud] [tsenseeritud] [tsenseeritud] [tsenseeritud], [tsenseeritud], [tsenseeritud] ja [tsenseeritud] kõvasti [tsenseeritud]!
[tsenseeritud] [tsenseeritud] [tsenseeritud] venib!
Hurraaa!
11.6.11
kui tundub, et jäi veel midagi nägemata...
... siis siin on suuremalt, lähemalt, heledamalt, detailsemalt ja wutevva...
enjoy!
enjoy!
22.4.11
Kirjandusminut
mõned pildid meie lemmikraamatust:
enam pole kaua jäänud!
seniks lõiguke janukustutuseks:
I’m wearing nothing but the pale blue lace panties that Taylor bought. I find a pale blue camisole and slip into it quickly. It will hide my bruises. Diving into the closet I pull out from the drawer Edward’s faded jeans – his playroom jeans, my favorite jeans. I fold them neatly, kneel by the bedroom door and wait.
Finally he reaches down and picks up his jeans. He says nothing, but heads into the walk-in closet, while I remain stock still. Oh my… this is it. My heart starts thundering and I relish the rush of adrenaline that spikes through my body. I squirm as my excitement builds. What will he do to me? A few moments later he’s back, wearing the jeans.
“So you want to play?” he murmurs.
“Yes.”
He says nothing, and I risk a quick glance… up his jeans, his denim clad thighs, the soft bulge at his fly, the open button at the waist, his happy trail, his navel, his chiseled abdomen, his chest hair… his green eyes blazing, and his head cocked to one side. He’s arching an eyebrow. Oh shit.
“Yes what?” he whispers.
Oh.
“Yes, Sir.”
His eyes darken and my breath hitches.
enam pole kaua jäänud!
seniks lõiguke janukustutuseks:
I’m wearing nothing but the pale blue lace panties that Taylor bought. I find a pale blue camisole and slip into it quickly. It will hide my bruises. Diving into the closet I pull out from the drawer Edward’s faded jeans – his playroom jeans, my favorite jeans. I fold them neatly, kneel by the bedroom door and wait.
The door opens. I look down at his bare feet as they pause on the threshold. Hmm. He says nothing… for ages he says nothing. Oh shit. I resist the urge to look up at him, and keep my eyes downcast.
“So you want to play?” he murmurs.
“Yes.”
He says nothing, and I risk a quick glance… up his jeans, his denim clad thighs, the soft bulge at his fly, the open button at the waist, his happy trail, his navel, his chiseled abdomen, his chest hair… his green eyes blazing, and his head cocked to one side. He’s arching an eyebrow. Oh shit.
“Yes what?” he whispers.
Oh.
“Yes, Sir.”
His eyes darken and my breath hitches.
21.4.11
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