Daddys rules for dating application meme, categories
Yello suck on them! So remember, when anyone asks you about Yello, you tell them the truth--she's got serious fucking game! Unscrew the locks from the doors! The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn, The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind, A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms, The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag, The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides, The feeling of health, the full-noon Dating websites in uruguay, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.
I am a free companion, I bivouac by invading watchfires, I turn the bridgroom out of bed and stay with the bride myself, I tighten her all night to my thighs and lips.
O unspeakable passionate love. Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather, The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose?
Not a moment's cease, The leaks gain fast on the pumps, the fire eats toward the powder-magazine. A minute and a drop of me settle my brain, I believe the soggy clods shall become lovers and lamps, And a compend of compends is the meat of a man or woman, And a summit and flower there is the feeling they have for each other, And they are to branch boundlessly out of that lesson until it becomes omnific, And until one and all shall delight us, and we them.
Partaker of influx and efflux I, extoller of hate and conciliation, Extoller of amies and those that sleep in each others' arms. I behold the picturesque giant and love him, and I do not stop there, I go with the team also.
I wonder where they get those tokens, Did I pass that way huge times ago and negligently drop them?
Walt Whitman: Song of Myself
I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate. The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place, The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place, The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.
Our frigate takes fire, The other asks if we demand quarter? Smile, for your lover comes. Coach Dera gives Yello the dicking she desires as this blonde bombshell shows off her real skill--sucking and fucking big dick and twerking that big beautiful butt of hers until Charles Dera swishes his load all over her beautiful thick body!
Whatever goes to the tilth of me it shall be you! What behaved well in the past or behaves well to-day is not such wonder, The wonder is always and always how there can be a mean man or an infidel. The boatmen and clam-diggers arose early and stopt for me, I tuck'd my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time; You should have been with us that day round the chowder-kettle.
Vivas to those who have fail'd! Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex, Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life. Where are you off to, lady?
I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them. Evil propels me and reform of evil propels me, I stand indifferent, My gait is no fault-finder's or rejecter's gait, I moisten the roots of all that has grown.
Tenderly will I use you curling grass, It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, It may be if I had known them I would have loved them, It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps, And here you are the mothers' laps.
Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars? I know I am august, I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood, I see that the elementary laws never apologize, I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by, after all.
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