"Castle clash: فريق الشجعان " اليوم: 0    جميع المشاركات: 9319

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[(Android) نقاش عام] هؤلاء اللاعبون محترفون

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#11
تم النشر بتاريخ 2016-08-06 05:03:36 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط

At this moment I'm sitting at Starbucks under a dim sky. That is only the early on line. Where I am at this moment doesn't make a difference, yet so you know, I have a grande Mocha, and "Jane Doe's Outcast" and the Kingdom playing through earphones. So I have pen and paper to compose a dream, however the more I consider it, the harder it appears to compose. So I'm not going to make anything up, I'm going to let you know what keeps me wakeful during the evening. Before I go on, let me say this is dream; I can have what I need. I can browse diverse fates, play them out. For the most part, this is all accepting we live respectively. So you'll please excuse me for bouncing ahead. So during the evening I can lie wakeful for quite a while before nodding off. I consider numerous things; of issues, arrangements, fancies… this begins with the considered sharing a bed. I'm sleeping that night; I may work the following day. It would be 3 AM and you have quite recently had your shower, and when you come in you do whatever it takes not to wake me, but rather as you strip, I blend, and as you move under the spreads I know you've come to bed. I envision you rest in men's dark silk boxers. I rest bare. You pull the spreads up and you shudder a bit. I pull you nearer to me and my glow, nearer to my exposed mid-section and squeeze myself against you. Your skin is crisp and firm from the hot shower, cool and smooth under my hand. I've run my hand up between your delicate bosoms and my arm holds you, and you've grasped my hand. I lean my head against you. Is your hair marginally sodden, or do you dry it? The glow under the spreads gradually increments and your body starts to unwind. You start to inhale simple. I move my legs so my thighs press underneath your own, I feel the delicate glossy silk. I am more wakeful now, yet I am serene, you're in my arms. There isn't whatever else on the planet yet this minute and its sensations. What's more, what do I feel? I hear the delicate downpour outside and I hear you relaxing. I feel your mid-section rise and fall. The warmth working in my grasp, cozy in your chest, the hand you're holding. My head is tucked into your neck, your cool hair all over, perfumed. I breathe out, hot breath, it voyages and spreads over your neck, down your back, further; I think you should feel that as well. My lips are now squeezed to your shoulders, and thankful for this minute, I kiss, delicately. You react with the cutest little murmur, and crush my hand that you hold to your mid-section, and you interlock our fingers. Do I kiss you once more? Do I delicately press your fingers? Do I become hard against your glossy silk boxers? On the other hand does the glow and peace take us both to rest? This is the thing that I envision at 5 in the morning. It's fair in my brain, yet it can feel genuine, inasmuch as I don't stop, insofar as I don't feel the cool only a foot away. This is conceivable. Do you think this way? Do you consider contentions as well? What awesome battles we could have. I do, and how I would I say I'm sad, how I would improve it. In any case, now, at 5 in the morning, considering you squeezed against me, I've become hard. For me, that night, you swing to face me, and attempting to keep out the frosty air you move gradually; you move in so shut your nose touches mine, our lips touch. Now and then I consider how I would feel in the event that I let you down, made you frantic, and you were not conversing with me. How might I approach you, how might I inspire you to let me know what wasn't right. What sort of torment we could perpetrate. Be that as it may, in this fantasy, I need you to kiss me, so tenderly; so sweetly; a sweet minute. You do. The ideal snippets of fellowship that make everything else beneficial, make every single other protest paltry. In this waking dream I run the tips of my fingers up your back, I hold your neck, delicate shaved hair tickles my fingertips. I adore the vibe of your muscles under the skin. I run my fingers through your hair, or along the line of your jaw up around your ear. I hold you solidly, and we kiss harder. We both breathe out. You delve into my back, not so hard it harms, but rather energetically, you pull our bodies nearer together. Perhaps the downpour begins to fall harder. The hot air gets away from the spreads, and with it the daze aroma of your fervor. It would drive me wild. Its morning as a general rule, the morning light is developing, yet I have given into the dream, and I knead myself under the spreads. Later on, in the dream, I can just about sense everything about, the inebriating fragrance of your body, feeling the sliding tissue, breathing you in, taking as much time as necessary in this steadily heightening dream. In actuality, the spreads get in my direction, so I bring them down beneath my hips. It is frigid, yet I couldn't care less. The future, the dream, it flips forward and backward, concentrating on you breathing and sounds that you make; then to between your legs, hot and wet; the vibe of pubic hair; Kissing your inward thigh; lost in your lips; teeth gnawing; profound kissing; profound inside you. I'm sticking your hand to the bed over your head, the other I have underneath you fastening your shoulder, strongly, viciously. We are lost at the time, overcome. Back in all actuality I am about there. I need to come however I don't need it to end. So I back off. I shouldn't, I need to get up for work, yet I back off. You're on top of me now with the spreads most of the way up your back. You're inclining down low over me, your temple laying on mine, you are moving forward and backward. I'm flipping between sensations; investigating your eyes, or our eyes close and our lips squeezed together, you may nibble my lip. It's hot inside you. You are so wet I am skimming. I can let you know are close. You take sharp breaths, you make frantic little groans. The thought about your coming peak sends floods of delight up my body. What's more, in my dream we meet up. Gripping each other in a grasp dreadfully effective for some other minute, and we are total. As a general rule my heart 


.is thundering in my ears 


In my psyche, we haven't moved subsequent to, yet you have set your hand on my mid-section, you're feeling my heart pound. Possibly you tumble to my side, my arm underneath you, your head on my shoulder, we then force the spreads up. I tenderly stroke your arm, just delicately touching you. Possibly we talk, or perhaps simply stay quiet – tranquil – depleted. I know I hold you for quite a while. What's more, as the sweat dries we nod off. As a general rule, I'm quiet, considering 


.you in my arms 




Plagiarism + Apologies 2late I, Loe am...White Dwarf other than Dead Star 




As of now I'm sitting at Starbucks under a dull sky. That is just the underlying line. Where I am as of now doesn't have any kind of effect, however so you know, I have a grande Mocha, and Johnson & Johnson Untouchable and the "Kingdom" playing by method for headphones. So I have pen and paper to create a fantasy, yet the more I think of it as, the harder it seems to form. So I'm not going to make anything up, I'm going to tell you what keeps me alarm amid the night. Before I go on, let me say this is dream; I can have what I require. I can search unmistakable prospects, play them out. By and large, this is all expecting we live individually. So you'll please excuse me for bouncing ahead. So around night time I can lie alarm for a long time before falling asleep. I consider various things; of issues, game plans, wants… this starts with the considered sharing a bed. I'm resting that night; I may work the next day. It would be 3 AM and you have as of late had your shower, and when you come in you do whatever it takes not to wake me, yet rather as you uncover, I mix, and as you move under the spreads I know you've come to bed. I imagine you rest in men's dim silk boxers. I rest uncovered. You pull the spreads up and you shiver a bit. I pull you closer to me and my gleam, closer to my revealed waist and press myself against you. Your skin is new and firm from the hot shower, cool and smooth under my hand. I've run my hand up between your sensitive chests and my arm holds you, and you've gotten a handle on my hand. I incline my head against you. Is your hair barely clammy, or do you dry it? The shine under the spreads step by step increases and your body begins to loosen up. You begin to breathe in basic. I move my legs so my thighs press underneath your own, I feel the sensitive polished silk. I am more attentive now, yet I am peaceful, you're in my arms. There isn't whatever else on the planet anyway this moment and its sensations. Besides, what do I feel? I hear the sensitive storm outside and I hear you unwinding. I feel your waist rise and fall. The glow working in my grip, comfortable in your mid-section, the hand you're holding. My head is tucked into your neck, your cool hair all over, perfumed. I inhale out, hot breath, it ventures and spreads over your neck, down your back, further; I think you ought to feel that too. My lips are starting now pressed to your shoulders, and grateful during the current moment, I kiss, carefully. You respond with the cutest little mumble, and pulverize my hand that you hold to your waist, and you interlock our fingers. Do I kiss you yet again? Do I gently pound your fingers? Do I turn out to be hard against your silk boxers? On the other hand does the shine and peace take us both to rest? This is the thing that I imagine at 5 in the morning. It's impartial in my mind, be that as it may it can feel real, because of the fact that I don't stop, seeing that I don't feel the cool just a foot away. This is possible. Do you think along these lines? Do you consider conflicts also? What unprecedented fights we could have. I do, and how I would I say I'm pitiful, how I would enhance it. Nevertheless, now, at 5 in the morning, thinking of you as crushed against me, I've turned out to be hard. For me, that night, you swing to face me, and endeavoring to keep out the cool air you move bit by bit; you move in so close your nose touches mine, our lips touch. Every so often I consider how I would feel in case I let you down, made you troubled, and you were not speaking with me. By what means may I approach you, in what manner may I rouse you to tell me what wasn't right. What sort

الامضاء
#12
تم النشر بتاريخ 2016-10-22 16:18:42 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط


الامضاء
Asshole
#13
تم النشر بتاريخ 2016-11-07 15:09:05 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط


الامضاء
Asshole
#14
تم النشر بتاريخ 2016-11-07 15:23:31 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط


الامضاء
Asshole
#15
تم النشر بتاريخ 2016-11-07 15:26:58 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط


الامضاء
Asshole
#16
تم النشر بتاريخ 2016-11-07 19:44:48 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط



الامضاء
Asshole
#17
تم النشر بتاريخ 2016-11-12 03:36:21 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط

الامضاء
#18
تم النشر بتاريخ 2017-01-27 08:53:33 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط

Istighfar  استغفار‎‎   Astaghfirullah  أستغفر الله‎‎

الامضاء
#19
تم النشر بتاريخ 2017-01-27 20:25:47 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط
الامضاء
أشغلها العشق وأثَّر عليها فهل تراجع طبيبا نفسيّاً ؟
#20
تم النشر بتاريخ 2017-01-30 19:37:59 | اظهر مشاركات باديء الموضوع فقط


الامضاء
[left]هي ترجمت هذا المقال من اللغة الإنجليزية إلى العربية.[/left]