CUM DIARIES Venice all its beauties part 3
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CUM DIARIES: Poker Games & The Berber Girl. free porn video
CUM Diaries: This is Chapter 1 of the Poker Games introducing the Berber Girl of Morocco.
I had stared at him for a little while longer than the usual gaze on throws towards his dealer. Unafraid how this would make him feel, I never realized the amount of freckles he had on one side of his face. This was bewildering, my Vienna guy had a be-speckled left hand side. It was actually quite pronounced, I only caught it however because I happened to gaze the second he removed his long blond fringe from his forehead and pinched this behind his ear. He was not a d**g dealer, no he was my art dealer. Luis, was my go to guy who would turn my large sums of Tax evaded sums of cash into something more manageable like fine crafted Chinese relics of which I have no particular taste for. Nobody dictates the market, except currently for the upward mobility of the Chinese Masses and just like what happened with Russia in the '90's the creation of new megalithic Oligarchs in the Red country. A couple of respectable pieces in my curated collection of fine Chinese artifacts might come in handy, this was not me following Luis's advice, this was the pragmatic life of ever gifting and granting toward others in order to extend your influence. The game is all about ripples, those trying to cast big waves tire and drown in the noise and white foam they helped create. Luis, apart from being my dealer was also the host of a particular brand of games. Essentially, simply described as poker. The only difference was that membership in this club with Luis as our host who would go through extreme lengths to have unique experiences every time we met. Never the same guests around the table twice, but whats most, Luis had an ability to match the guests around the table perfectly. This was not a simple matter of googling the net worth of each patron, throwing them on a table and hoping for the best. No, not at all. Each seat represented things that each maybe wanted from the other. Things were not as simple as black on white. This membership had a whole spectrum of colour, each with its own characteristics. I've sat across a sitting European Prime Minister during one game, with a convicted murderer at my side. That was a particularly bizarre one that I recall, however it is more often than not an array of business people and entrepreneurs. Some movie actors and singers make guest appearances sometimes, however I feel that Luis does that to keep things glitzy and glamorous as famous people seldom walk out victors from these tables. The settings are also never in the same place twice. An overnight experience and this time Luis had really outdone himself. The smell shit was quite thick, considering the cash for this membership, one would not think the smell of horse shit and humid hay would be in the equation. However this was still turning out to be an experience for the books. Our tables were set up around a bomb fire that was now turning to warm embers, behind our tables arranged in a horseshoe our accommodation. Authentic horse drawn gypsy carriages. Inside each kitted out with working mini cast iron stoves to keep the warmth while we rested. I turned to him, "not the most expensive of accommodations, this time Lu," I said. "Your joking right?" he brushed my shoulders from some stray piece of hay as he walked around to face me. "This my friend, belongs to whole Romanian Gypsy family, where do you think they are sleeping tonight?" he asked and without a second chance for me to interrupt "The Shangri-la, the Fucking Shangri-la. The piykey could hardly say it right!" , "God know's how many times the minibars are going to go empty and I would not even like to think about the damages they are going to incur!" I don't even know how he managed to get them booked into such a hotel, unless he snuck them in without the managements approval. The women were left to work as hostesses for our evening of poker and thankfully too as one of them caught my eye. Got my mouth salivating for the taste between her legs, hopefully not a ghonorrea infused one. Dress warmly was his only special memo in our invitation and that took me to be well prepared this time, kitted out with long johns under my thick pants. I didn't want to relive the time I froze my nuts off in the Berber City of Taroudant in the South of Morocco. When the invitation card read Morocco back then I immediately thought of Sun and Sand. I completely blocked out the idea of the Atlas mountains and how cold it would be there even though it was the middle of summer elsewhere. Tadefi flew into my mind and filled it for a long moment. She just swooped in and made my already constricted space in my trousers all the tighter as I began to feel myself swell up as I thought of that Berber ass of hers. Bedding a local on every one of these trips was not a challenge more than it was a pleasant occurrence, when one goes on holiday, one expects to taste the local cuisine, drink the regions wine and fuck the locals youth. I do expect that it is Luis in fact behind my 100% success rate, but in all honestly, this is why I relish the mastery of our great freckled host. Everything happens naturally without any forcefulness allowing me to question in fact I might be still on my game. Tadefi for example was not a Berber hostess in the regular sense of the word, her father was the head of the tribe who served and made our stay comfortable. He took advantage of the Tourist industry and offered luxury clients a pampered taste of being out in the wilderness of the vast empty extreme desert. Our eyes locked a few times, very briefly when we were being checked at the reception. An ancient old clay building renovated to look shabby chic, the age old tannery pits now converted to aesthetically beautiful spas. My arms were spread out with my back to the rough clay, the hot water the consistency of Milk with her sitting on me. Locking into my eyes as we were earlier on. I was inside her and I did not even know her name, I had no option of wanting to fuck her. She was wanting to fuck me and she began to lift herself slowly so that just the tip of my dick was now in confirming as she sat back hard all the way down, trying to almost include my balls too in her pussy. "You are nice," she whispered in my ear as she slowly slid up and down with a kind of erratic rhythm that I could not understand. "Do you great everyone like this?" I foolishly replied. Pain shot to my neck and my stomach turned instantly to a violent washing machine, tumbling my pain threshold inside it at one thousand revs per second. It felt like I was sitting on a spring loaded vice the whole time, instantly clamping down hard on my balls to the very close rate of almost crushing them into sub atomic particles. The pain now spread to two places, my right earlobe feeling like a needle piercing as I realize she's there biting at it, "No, I greet them like this." and with that she graciously let's go, a wave of nausea hits me and I wipe my face with the milky white liquid. Her full ripe breasts now in my face as she arches her back and places her arms on my thighs, rubbing her pelvis hard against mine. I'm glad she didn't burst my nuts cause now I want to fill that pussy of hers up full of my milky cum. So full she's have a cream pie for days. This berber was a savage, not a joke savage no, an actual savage who has not been tamed as her feminine counter parts in Europe and this was very arousing. I was in a cage with a tiger and a battle to the death was ensuing. I grab her by the hair, throw her sideways so that she's on all four's in the clay jacuzzi. The problem for her is that the step is quite low, but now I'm in the mood to dish some painful revenge. My fist full of her hair in my hand and I push down on the base of her head, hard so that her head is under the milky water, so deep that she seems headless. As I drown her, I penetrate her with the whole length of my heavy swelled dick. Every three thrusts, I pull on her hair like reigns of a horse as she gasps for air. Then I push her face back into the milk, this time four thrusts before I pull on her hair to let her breath. Five thrusts and I pull, she's now gagging, gagging hard, I pull her hair so that I lift her and her shoulders are on my chest as I fuck her hard. I'm about to cum and explode so I tell "her how do you want me to cum?" She wriggles free finds a shallower spot goes on her back lifts her legs behind her ears and shouts "Fill my berber Ass!" I was ready to blow but I mustered all the Gods to allow me for a few trusts in her amazing tight asshole.
email me on [email protected] I reply individually to all my fan mail, It may take some time to get to your email but I always do. These writings are 100% my own and all original content, not intended for distribution, for scripts or other work kindly email with subject line: "work" for a faster reply.
Thank you for all your support, chapter 2 next week. Who shall I feature, want to suggest, go ahead!
I had stared at him for a little while longer than the usual gaze on throws towards his dealer. Unafraid how this would make him feel, I never realized the amount of freckles he had on one side of his face. This was bewildering, my Vienna guy had a be-speckled left hand side. It was actually quite pronounced, I only caught it however because I happened to gaze the second he removed his long blond fringe from his forehead and pinched this behind his ear. He was not a d**g dealer, no he was my art dealer. Luis, was my go to guy who would turn my large sums of Tax evaded sums of cash into something more manageable like fine crafted Chinese relics of which I have no particular taste for. Nobody dictates the market, except currently for the upward mobility of the Chinese Masses and just like what happened with Russia in the '90's the creation of new megalithic Oligarchs in the Red country. A couple of respectable pieces in my curated collection of fine Chinese artifacts might come in handy, this was not me following Luis's advice, this was the pragmatic life of ever gifting and granting toward others in order to extend your influence. The game is all about ripples, those trying to cast big waves tire and drown in the noise and white foam they helped create. Luis, apart from being my dealer was also the host of a particular brand of games. Essentially, simply described as poker. The only difference was that membership in this club with Luis as our host who would go through extreme lengths to have unique experiences every time we met. Never the same guests around the table twice, but whats most, Luis had an ability to match the guests around the table perfectly. This was not a simple matter of googling the net worth of each patron, throwing them on a table and hoping for the best. No, not at all. Each seat represented things that each maybe wanted from the other. Things were not as simple as black on white. This membership had a whole spectrum of colour, each with its own characteristics. I've sat across a sitting European Prime Minister during one game, with a convicted murderer at my side. That was a particularly bizarre one that I recall, however it is more often than not an array of business people and entrepreneurs. Some movie actors and singers make guest appearances sometimes, however I feel that Luis does that to keep things glitzy and glamorous as famous people seldom walk out victors from these tables. The settings are also never in the same place twice. An overnight experience and this time Luis had really outdone himself. The smell shit was quite thick, considering the cash for this membership, one would not think the smell of horse shit and humid hay would be in the equation. However this was still turning out to be an experience for the books. Our tables were set up around a bomb fire that was now turning to warm embers, behind our tables arranged in a horseshoe our accommodation. Authentic horse drawn gypsy carriages. Inside each kitted out with working mini cast iron stoves to keep the warmth while we rested. I turned to him, "not the most expensive of accommodations, this time Lu," I said. "Your joking right?" he brushed my shoulders from some stray piece of hay as he walked around to face me. "This my friend, belongs to whole Romanian Gypsy family, where do you think they are sleeping tonight?" he asked and without a second chance for me to interrupt "The Shangri-la, the Fucking Shangri-la. The piykey could hardly say it right!" , "God know's how many times the minibars are going to go empty and I would not even like to think about the damages they are going to incur!" I don't even know how he managed to get them booked into such a hotel, unless he snuck them in without the managements approval. The women were left to work as hostesses for our evening of poker and thankfully too as one of them caught my eye. Got my mouth salivating for the taste between her legs, hopefully not a ghonorrea infused one. Dress warmly was his only special memo in our invitation and that took me to be well prepared this time, kitted out with long johns under my thick pants. I didn't want to relive the time I froze my nuts off in the Berber City of Taroudant in the South of Morocco. When the invitation card read Morocco back then I immediately thought of Sun and Sand. I completely blocked out the idea of the Atlas mountains and how cold it would be there even though it was the middle of summer elsewhere. Tadefi flew into my mind and filled it for a long moment. She just swooped in and made my already constricted space in my trousers all the tighter as I began to feel myself swell up as I thought of that Berber ass of hers. Bedding a local on every one of these trips was not a challenge more than it was a pleasant occurrence, when one goes on holiday, one expects to taste the local cuisine, drink the regions wine and fuck the locals youth. I do expect that it is Luis in fact behind my 100% success rate, but in all honestly, this is why I relish the mastery of our great freckled host. Everything happens naturally without any forcefulness allowing me to question in fact I might be still on my game. Tadefi for example was not a Berber hostess in the regular sense of the word, her father was the head of the tribe who served and made our stay comfortable. He took advantage of the Tourist industry and offered luxury clients a pampered taste of being out in the wilderness of the vast empty extreme desert. Our eyes locked a few times, very briefly when we were being checked at the reception. An ancient old clay building renovated to look shabby chic, the age old tannery pits now converted to aesthetically beautiful spas. My arms were spread out with my back to the rough clay, the hot water the consistency of Milk with her sitting on me. Locking into my eyes as we were earlier on. I was inside her and I did not even know her name, I had no option of wanting to fuck her. She was wanting to fuck me and she began to lift herself slowly so that just the tip of my dick was now in confirming as she sat back hard all the way down, trying to almost include my balls too in her pussy. "You are nice," she whispered in my ear as she slowly slid up and down with a kind of erratic rhythm that I could not understand. "Do you great everyone like this?" I foolishly replied. Pain shot to my neck and my stomach turned instantly to a violent washing machine, tumbling my pain threshold inside it at one thousand revs per second. It felt like I was sitting on a spring loaded vice the whole time, instantly clamping down hard on my balls to the very close rate of almost crushing them into sub atomic particles. The pain now spread to two places, my right earlobe feeling like a needle piercing as I realize she's there biting at it, "No, I greet them like this." and with that she graciously let's go, a wave of nausea hits me and I wipe my face with the milky white liquid. Her full ripe breasts now in my face as she arches her back and places her arms on my thighs, rubbing her pelvis hard against mine. I'm glad she didn't burst my nuts cause now I want to fill that pussy of hers up full of my milky cum. So full she's have a cream pie for days. This berber was a savage, not a joke savage no, an actual savage who has not been tamed as her feminine counter parts in Europe and this was very arousing. I was in a cage with a tiger and a battle to the death was ensuing. I grab her by the hair, throw her sideways so that she's on all four's in the clay jacuzzi. The problem for her is that the step is quite low, but now I'm in the mood to dish some painful revenge. My fist full of her hair in my hand and I push down on the base of her head, hard so that her head is under the milky water, so deep that she seems headless. As I drown her, I penetrate her with the whole length of my heavy swelled dick. Every three thrusts, I pull on her hair like reigns of a horse as she gasps for air. Then I push her face back into the milk, this time four thrusts before I pull on her hair to let her breath. Five thrusts and I pull, she's now gagging, gagging hard, I pull her hair so that I lift her and her shoulders are on my chest as I fuck her hard. I'm about to cum and explode so I tell "her how do you want me to cum?" She wriggles free finds a shallower spot goes on her back lifts her legs behind her ears and shouts "Fill my berber Ass!" I was ready to blow but I mustered all the Gods to allow me for a few trusts in her amazing tight asshole.
email me on [email protected] I reply individually to all my fan mail, It may take some time to get to your email but I always do. These writings are 100% my own and all original content, not intended for distribution, for scripts or other work kindly email with subject line: "work" for a faster reply.
Thank you for all your support, chapter 2 next week. Who shall I feature, want to suggest, go ahead!
Tamera
- 07.10.2022
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