Ane sidhu mara pet ma jatu rahyu. Pachhi to me eno lund mara modha mathi bahar kadyo ane ame fari thi kiss karva madya.pan hawe hu eni upar hati ane e...mari niche hato. Ame amari laad ni aaple karta hata etla ma mane kaik ajugtu lagyu, pan mara bf e mane ena pag vade lock kari didhi hati ane mara hoth chusto j rahyo… Hu kai pan bolva ni sthiti ma nahoti. Ke marathi halatu pan nahotu.ene mara pet ma virya ni pichkari mari hati ena lidhe mane vomit thavani taiyaari ja hati … Ame thuk ni aaple. Today is a Saturday in South Louisiana, I'm on stage with a Cajun band, Bert's there with me, and we're wearing out the fiddle break of a Cajun favorite and it dawns on me, Kara Lynn Sevinsky, that the Arkansas boy with the fiddle under his chin there, he is, to use an over-used descriptor, The One.We've been exclusive for a long time, not because either of us is hopelessly ugly, but because both of us have 'issues', as they say. I hid behind my music. Bert didn't hide behind stuff, unless you. " Oh no you don't. You can't make me eat shit." Oh no? Watch this," Helga continued to scoop up shit until she had a big handful and, reaching up, crammed it into Linda's mouth and covered her mouth while locking her nose with her forefinger and thumb. "Eat it, I say. I won't turn loose of your nose until you swallow all that slimy load of shit I gave you."Linda just stared at Helga, realizing that soon she would have to swallow it to keep from suffocating. Linda began to chew, struggling with. ‘Why could he not just fuck me, that was feeling so good
