Thursday, December 20, 2012
Warm Slippery Pussy.
(9)
It is just after midnight, and I am still here. I've been listening to and watching a beautiful young woman playing Beethoven's Violin Concerto. I love the music. I also love the young woman, Arabella Steinbacher. When I read her name I thought, 'She's Jewish.' But I was fascinated by her beauty. I imagined her in my arms. I was feeling the warmth of her beautiful face as we danced closely with each other. Her 'Jewishness' did not bother me at all. I watched her for the entire length of the concerto, savoring her beauty, imagining the warmth of her beautiful face. I've 'been there and done that' with other women of course, and no doubt those memories contributed to the fantasy I experienced. I later discovered that she was German. No problemo. I loved her anyway. Warm slippery pussy is warm slippery pussy. German... Jew... it didn't matter. What mattered was the warmth of her; the sweet smell of her.
It is just after midnight, and I am still here. I've been listening to and watching a beautiful young woman playing Beethoven's Violin Concerto. I love the music. I also love the young woman, Arabella Steinbacher. When I read her name I thought, 'She's Jewish.' But I was fascinated by her beauty. I imagined her in my arms. I was feeling the warmth of her beautiful face as we danced closely with each other. Her 'Jewishness' did not bother me at all. I watched her for the entire length of the concerto, savoring her beauty, imagining the warmth of her beautiful face. I've 'been there and done that' with other women of course, and no doubt those memories contributed to the fantasy I experienced. I later discovered that she was German. No problemo. I loved her anyway. Warm slippery pussy is warm slippery pussy. German... Jew... it didn't matter. What mattered was the warmth of her; the sweet smell of her.
