SOFTLY STANDING

The Witcher breaks into the monotony of my life with a light step. Soft, round shapes, beautiful and awesome, she teases me with her magic wand. He alone can work the miracle. Murmurs arcane formulas of magic and here I am young, beautiful and with the biemmevu. And for good measure with a few more inches of cock that she laughs at marble. But only until midnight, he yells at me joyfully and playfully, before disappearing in a cloud of white smoke. I am dazed to look down when he reaches the threshold of my being. I start the engine and run until I find a house on the edge of the woods. I knock on the door because I know I’ll find a Witcher inside. And in fact the one who opens me is so beautiful that nothing else can be. He welcomes me with a smile and puts his index finger on my lips. Dumb, I stay to watch him undress. he is beautiful without veils and without hesitation, while I realize that I already am. His bed is soft like her hands, like his fluffy hair. His soft lips, the most hidden ones are wet and welcome my desire to let him enter inside of me. I sink into that dream. His eyes know. His eyes strangely resemble those of the Witcher. My Prince is a Witcher. Suddenly I return woke. The door, where is the door? Almost the background in the stampede. just a cold wood. Return to the tree. I am a tree. I run away.

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