/ The authors / SW_Samara
This story is not fiction. The events described here are our real experience. Some of our such pranks may seem wild and unacceptable, someone may become to blame us, but we would ask to treat this easier - we do not impose anything on anyone and do not try to prove it. This is just one of the facets of our life, and we want to tell you frankly about it, believing that this may be interesting to someone ...
In search of savory pleasures, we are constantly expanding sexual ...
Read more →
In search of savory pleasures, we are constantly expanding sexual ...
Read more →
The night outside the window is gradually losing ground, giving way to a new day - in the summer it brightens early. The windows are open because of the heat, you can hear the city gradually coming to life, despite the early hour - the wipers go to work, I hear them scrubbing the asphalt with their brooms, cars start driving more often on the way through the house, the access door from time to time slams, letting someone out of the porch. In front of me is an ashtray with a bunch of bulls, crammed to capacity, ashes around on the table, on the keyboard - my hands are trembling a little from the nervous, and indeed sexual, to be confused, stress. To get distracted, I sit in ICQ and VC, discussing what is happening and what should happen now (or maybe it is already happening at the moment), with random interlocutors interested in the topic. The phone is nearby, I constantly look at it, always ready to grab the phone as soon as the call goes from my beloved.
Read more →
Read more →