The classic man of another era, one of whom threw the mold.
That stubborn, macho, a genial man with whom I wanted to have dinner one summer evening a full moon in a bistro in Paris. We'd ended up in bed or I would have slapped? Maybe entrambi, ma non in quest’ordine.
Poi un giorno decido di accettare un invito, prendo il treno e torno a Milano. E’ Natale, fa freddo, piove. Ma alla stazione è venuto a prendermi lui, Ernest. La sua quintessenza o forse la sua reincarnazione. Passo deciso, sguardo di chi del mondo e delle donne ha visto molto e forse tutto. Mi sembra di avere una parte da recitare di un copione già scritto, lui dirige. Il percorso, le destinazioni, gli argomenti. La sicurezza sconfina nella spocchia. Ma per ora va bene. Con tutta la mancanza di decisione e di intrapprendenza maschile patita in queste ultime settimane, mi ci vuole una dose the good old machismo. Let's see how he knows to be male and I'll reward him with any female they are.
Four steps dividing the umbrella under the Christmas lights. The quick lunch in some place. They are wrapped up in wool and wearing sexy clothes for nothing. I do not feel it. I can not be within five degrees of winter this air. He has already made his moves, old-fashioned. Elegant, sharp, never vulgar. I have all rejected the sender and the tension is about to evaporate, then cooled in a cold and rainy afternoon that is going to end in a stalemate. A step by step we are getting closer to certainty a moment of erotic and certainly regret vanished the next few days. An intense aroma tickles my nose, followed me from the station. Is mixed with other herbs, and then fades back to find me. Over me, tickling my nose, sneaks in me, making the blood boil first then my nectar. I had not given importance before that I found a cut above his neck on the stairs and you understand that that's the smell. I was hooked, even before speaking. And neither he nor I knew it. Our skin is. Now I wanted to touch her, feel the texture under your fingers. It will be hot, rough or smooth. It will be velvet or linen. Too many people walking around there, and my desire to boiling. Thoughts become unique. And the smell makes me gush with excitement between your legs. A gate opens a doorway and offers himself to us. I decide that there asseggerò him. He laughed at my need has become urgent. Do not want to relinquish the reins of this game, it just gives. Let me slip in a hand between her legs, just to make me understand that this was not enough to excite him. Deride my retake failed, leaving me arrogantly offended by his refusal. Only in this way, stripped of his clothes to temptress, he decided to return to me. She looks at me, take my hand, the driving time between my thighs, dipping our fingers in me and if the door to the language. Then he kisses me, doing our mix flavors. "So it's as if we had purposes, for today is enough. " He stood there motionless and exhausted: it was started by the master, the torture of waiting.
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