Mom needs wine

Last movie that I probably watched this year: Mars Needs Moms. For those who never heard it´s a modern animation directed by Simon Wells that is really worth to see. Especially  is you are a mom or a son. Or daughter. I had seen that movie before and I remember I liked it, but I don't remember noticing some reflections like how come the martians represents an extremist feminist society, where everything works high tech, but a motherly heart is missing, in a point they found easier to "import" good moms from the Earth, in order to drain their mom skills - process that also causes mom´s desintegration. They developed technology enough to that- but not to learn how to really raise kids. I know, I might had a bit two much of moscatel wine before getting to this conclusions, but maybe this is the world I picture the future of Earth itself. Woman can easily handle the world of success we live today, because we are naturally built to handle a bunch of things at the same time, since we're built to be moms. To be responsible of someone else. If male and female couldn't live without each other, we would been born attached. So, females has skills to survive for herself and still protect someone else. In the nature. Today's society might be tuff, but this rules are taken most easily by any girl than any guy.- can there it be any bigger responsibility.


 Woman's rights conquered a lot more than it ever did, and women of course noticed in what they are good at, and somehow it begin to be more important to society, than to raise her kids full time- or at is best most time possible. In the movie, the kids are raised by robot-babysitters. Look at that dudes from that obviously hippie tribe and tell me they don't identify much more as an ideal kind of typical male: funny, friendly, happy and caring about kids. Even if too colorful.
The movie promotes the concept of family and balance, helping the kid to understand the importance of motherhood. Because, truly? I didn't understand a lot of things until I become a mom myself. And I'm not talking only about sleeping time. I comprehended that my mom had to take a lot of decisions and give up a lot of things in my benefit, that I never knew and will never know. And most of them are the toughest decisions she had to make.

I know how privileged I've been for spending most of my daughter's life at home with her. Still what I hear most is "how come you spent that many time without a formal job?". I hear this for people that could perfectly do it the same I did, giving up small luxury for some time. But hardly any did it. Now she is starting to have her own life and goes to school, must learn to take her own decisions, and I am happy I can step forward also, back to work without having to concern about a completely helpless human being that carries my heritage. Even because of this: I remember being her age and I watched her grow closely, I can try to guess some reactions, and work a better communication, based in how I would understand her if I was her age.


 I also know pretty much how naive she can be, and no matter how much I try to make my request accomplished by a nice justification, she stands up. It´s when I eventually apply but an apparently senseless rule or punishment that translates the meaning of that misbehaving. And some things she only learns from life. I told her a zillion times no to touch the karaoke mic with her mouth when singing. I had to remember her every single time with every single mic she had in hands. I told ver about the electrical shock hazard, I told her it's gross and has microbes that will make her sick, I told her she could stumble and hurt her teeth, I explain all the possible real reasons why I didn't want her to have that behaviour. It never worked, until the day she really got shocked. Not a dangerous one, not worse than anything you could get by drooling over an electric mic, but, you know, bad enough for scaring a little girls who still starts crying before taking the medicine.

And I never say "I told you.". I just look at her and I know she knows. She's very smart, but stubborn as a Calvin. I read the comics, I learnt a few lessons from it. And I have a good memory. Believe me, my mom was also right a bunch of times when I was 5. And I only believed her because I messed up at some point, mostly exactly where she warned me I would. Too late to fix a mess she had already foreseen.

Some girls today may choose not to take this responsability and I completely respect that, but still she's not excused of recognizing that my being a good daughter.  Kids turn into good adults when you respect their childhood when establishing a communication. But it's a concept I hardly see applied: adults mostly underestimate the intelligence of their kids because of the different form they interact through life. The things they priorize. It mostly has an origin, a logic that you can observate and communicate at the same level, but it takes some time to analize. Some patience and love. And it's sure easier to get if you don't have to waste time solving corporative problems that doesn't concern you personally. This is not worthy having more time to study a language with your preschool kid, just for fun.

A kid that has a mom at home all the time is also privileged in our generation. I am pretty sure it contributes for the kid's development. It can also bring some collateral effects, such as a big influence on the kid's musical taste. Sometimes it's actually more fitting to call it collateral effects. I must confess I feel great when my daughter makes fun of her friends who like Michel Teló. Of course I support diversity, but come on, Michel Teló.!? You wouldn't like your kid to be into this shit either, unless you're the kind of person that really swallows everything media shoves you, and in this case there are worse things to worry about than your music taste.

Damn, I miss watching a cartoon and just have a few laughs instead of drinking wine and start to thinking too much. I definitely wouldn't be drinking if my daughter wasn't out for vacations with her father, but we would sure be watching that cartoon instead of thinking and typing at the same time, straight on the blogger pannel. I'll now press the publishing bottom without reviewing it...

..and this will be my last drunk contribution for this blog on this year of 2012.

Happy New Year!

Retrospecting...

So, while everyone was waiting to this world to end, 2012 brought me a brand new life for a brand new me. This year I laughed more than I cried, I learnt more than I suffered and I got more than I lost. One year ago, I would had never believed if someone had told me so. For this I relied on some old time friends, and made new ones who really spiced up my life. All crazy, all great.  I´m grateful.
The biggest lesson of all? That life sure isn't always the way we plan it.

Sometimes it can be better.

Best bumperstick today

'tevah..

It's over. The saddest Christmas I remember. In fact, it didn't even seemed like Christmas, anyway. Not that I only had lived trough happy and cheerful times on holidays, but usually this date would made some difference in my life. I remember to be happy, to be angry, to be hopeful or anguished. This year, I felt nothing but the clear impression that afterall, Christmas meant nothing to me. As I definitely meant nothing to anyone else's Christmas.

 I'm taking this risk of opening up too much here. I dunno who you readers are, I have a lot of visitors but hardly any comments, what was to expect by the time I started writing all that naughty stuff that mostly never ever happened. I'm not the gorgeous bitch full of self confidence I think that hooks up with your expectations: I'm not blessed or meant to something special: I just write my story this way, so I can forget for a while that I'm just a shy girl who feels bit misplaced in this world. I wanted to write a fairytale, but market is demanding porn. Seems legit. Why frustrate people with happy endings when we can be satisfied for the moment..?

Loneliness kinda turn me into an app in this past year, when it seems most of my moments were lived through some social media. Is my life that unreachable or I don't have a life at all? And maybe when you're getting aroused reading my sexual adventures with a lustful lover, you won't notice that I'm talking about someone I love so much that whenever we're only hold hands I'm already infinitely more fulfilled than when imagining any of the craziest stories I publish here. Maybe the more I think I'm showing, the more I'm actually hiding.Can't blame you for not seeing me, but I'm real. I keep breathing when I get offline. I take showers, I taste food, I drool when I sleep and mostly wake up with a real messy hair. I ride buses, I discuss archeology, I burn my fingers when ironing a shirt, I scare pigeons in market squares and I really have no sense of fashion.

In fact these sex stories are quite the opposite of everything I really wanted to be able to talk about, because when I'm living I have no time to waste on shallow tales to amuse others: I'm too busy being happy.

It seems I have been having plenty of free time now.

Kelly Wells

...I might want to remember this name , later.

Randomness of the day...

"In fact I am a whore, but a very picky one. And I never get paid for the sex. In fact sometimes I invest a lot of money on it, not counting make up and clothing... Well, in fact I think I am the client."

Waiting for Santa...

Of course I would do it. Just for the fun that I said I would.

I took a long bath with scented bubbles, red rose petals, rare salts and special herbs, surrounded by instrumental sexy metal and having a fine glass of champagne. Nothing as fancy as you might probably imagine, but confortable enough to let my own imagination wander.
I dried my body with the softest black towels, put on the best bedwear, the perfect matching colors. Everything as tidy as it should, to make it perfect.

Remember that "Bonded by Love" story when I said I was wearing a new nighty and got ripped away? Well, after that I had to buy a new "for the occasion" sleeping apparels, and I had chosen a baby pink underwear, full of laces, a real dish. Something Baby Spice would wear in your wettest dreams.- yeah, I'm "Spice Girls" old.

I decided tonight would be the occasion. Then put my hair in a ponytail, some make up on - not to make me look younger, but actually to make believe I'm trying to look older. If Santa really had a thing for little girls, he would feast on my body tonight - with a clear conscience, since I'm aged enough to fake being sixteen. And believe me: when I was actually sixteen, no one would want to see me wearing a sexy baby doll. I had other interests, anyway...


So, by midnight there I was. I heard the churches bells and the firecrackers all over the city. People shouting "Merry Christmas!" from their two million dollars apartments, or from the streets where they live as beggars, as robbers, as ghosts. I can hear everybody out there. Here, I don't say a word, for there is noone to listen. I had called my family earlier and said I'd probably be sleeping by midnight, and didn't care for the time, as long as I could say I love them. Why not? If Chritsmas is a day like everyday, its also a great opportunity to saying this to the people you do love. Love is not an offense you should hold back, instead is something you'd want to share...everybody likes to feel loved. =) . Tonight I chose to be alone. I have no idea why. It's not sad or depressing as whole, but it's boring as hell, so I had to keep myself interested. I was free to do any kind of crazy stuff I'd like to.
And I kinda chose to rape Santa under the christmas tree by the chimney. I had thought about that all and made some ambientation. I leaned myself on the sofa, drinking some wine, and I presume I passed out.
The fat old blue eyed guy from Finland never showed up, but still my dreams were interrupted by a glimpse of Red.

- Come on, I'll take you to bed.
- I was waiting for Santa..! - I struggled to wake.

- I can see that, you're dressed as the sluttiest cartoon character ever...
-And how does it suits me?
-Hot as a thousand hells...
-So, you think the old man would like it? 
-Santa is not coming. - he smiled - You've been a bad girl.
-How come..?- I flashed him my innocence eyes.
-Little girls should not be wearing this kind of nighties...specially when there are guests around. - he said, snapping my transparent thong.
-You're not my daddy to say what I should or not to wear...
-No, I'm your older kinky cousin - he laughed- and I'll tell you a story about Santa if you sit on my lap...- He sit on the armchair and put me on his lap, letting his hand upon my leg. "What would you ask Santa if you had been a good girl this year?" - He was moving his fingers through my thighs.
- World peace! - I blinked.
-Too bad, this whole world will be damned just because you misbehaved...
-I always knew I was up to something big.
- You definitely are...- he placed my hand on his hard-on that was showing. I didn't remember paying attention before to the sight of his cock growing under his pants. It was really tempting to reach, but I couldn't. So, when he drove my hand to his hot stuff, I didn't try to take it off, I was actually enjoying. I wanted to explore it, but was feeling terribly shy. What if I squeezed it too much? What if didn't know how to handle it?

Meanwhile, his hands were moving up to in between my legs. I was feeling his fingers tangling on my g-string thong. By then I knew that if I really had to stop him, I'd be in big trouble, for I sure wouldn't want to. The soft way he was moving forward -  cautiously, as if ready to a sudden stop - was totally irresistable. I was so obviously dripping wet. And he was so about to find it out with his own fingertips. With the first moisted contact my heart started beating faster.

-You're so wet... - He said. I was shaky, trying to control the feelings for not to jump on him, rip his pants out and fucking him to death. I had my hand paralized on his cock. - You wanna see how big it is? - He unbottoned his jeans and put his dick out. It wasn't the first time I was seeing that, but somehow, felt like it was. And he has a beautiful, tasty cock. Even if it was really the first time I was face to face to one of those, I am pretty sure my instinct would also be saying the same thing : "Sit on it and ride it until you feel your pussy is on fire..."

He could guess my lustful thoughts for he was feeling my pussy throbbing at his fingertips. I wanted him to finger me but I wouldn't dare to ask. He held me tight to his body and kissed me softly on my cheeks, I could stop looking at his cock that by that time I was already caressing. " Go on...it's like a lollipop. Like ice cream, but hotter."

 I grabbed him with both hands, stroking him carefully, licking its head. As an ice cream, just that it wasn't melting, instead getting harder on my hands. I was each time getting it bit deeper into my mouth.

-Do you want to feel it inside your pussy?

-I'm afraid...

-It won't hurt, you see... - he started pulling one finger inside me. Slowly in and slowly out. - You're not actually a virgin - he smiled at me, sneaking out of the acting context. I sucked him as he was gently impaling me with his long fingers. Definitely, no innocent girl would submit to that scene. "You are a bad girl" - he slapped my butts. "And this is what you'll get for X'mas" - he gently pulled my head to his cock, and then took it off my mouth. "I want you to sit on my cock with your pussy..."

I embraced him face to face, grabbed his cock and started dipping its head on my cunt. Inch by inch, looking straight into his eyes. I was so focused on the senses, the feelings, that I ended up loosing balance and his hard-on almost ripped me at once. We both moaned, he embraced me tight and started banging my pussy. 

"Good girl".

-You just said I was a bad one..!

-Yes, and for this you got spanked, but now you're making me very happy...I'm not santa but I have a gift for you...

He held me closer and filled in my pussy. I came two seconds after him and the shocks made me spit out all his load in a squirt. All that energy exploded, leaving me exhausted. We just stayed there, wasted on each others arms, and later he'd finally carry me to bed.

Like a child.

Still I didn't learn...

Tonight I'm feeling indecent. Bit amused, bit jealous and full of an urge of having you the dirtiest way. I need to be on top and below you, to smell your skin and taste your lips so thirsty of mine. Damn me for loving you this much, damn this body that craves for your touch. I let my mind wander a bit and in a moment I'm crawling upon you, smacking your face with my hair that you now feel caressing down your body. You feel my tongue swirling around the tip your cock, my hard nipples rubbing against your thighs, I have my both hands and my mouth working on you. But you're a strong guy, you can grab my hips and turn me around, pulling aside my lacey g-string panties. I have your tongue fucking me while your hands madly squeeze and spread my ass. Hold me closer, pull me down: fulfill my throat with your dick and feel my wet lips touching your balls. I wanna moan as you abuse me, I'll sob while you spank me, and scream your name out loud when you first bang me deep. Feed me with your hot load in every hole and give me that looks that makes me feel like a goddess being fucked by an angel.

Maybe you're fallen and I'm just a tramp.

But who cares..?

Porn review

Just watched a porn flick with really great sex. The movie itself has no plot, the actors are not more than "okay" looks, but the guy had a big dick and the girl's pussy and tits were nice looking too. It's called "Baby face needs a dick" on redtube (I'm not going to link that here, I'm sorry). The only mistake, as always, is that we can clearly see that the girl is not wet enough.They could had use more lube or something to fake it better, at least. But the fuck positions and the camera angles are sure great.

Now I'm finishing my bottle of wine, go to bed, spread my legs and call Mr. Red out of my dreams to suck me until I cum in his mouth and fall asleep thereafter...

We're still here..!

So, the world didn't end. Damn it. I had already chosen the outfit for the occasion. It really amused me the real concern some people had about some kind of apocalypse scheduled for yesterday. The Mayan calendar was over, so what? Doesn't our own calendar ends every december,31th? Poor Mayans, I just imagine if they ever knew they wouldn't live to see this moment. I bet it would be pretty special to them. Their apocalypse came earlier, afterall. And I'm pretty sure ours will also come someday, not by a catastrophy, but by mankind itself.

We're already living days of absurd values, when it's pretty normal and acceptable that you spend most of your time away from your own life, dedicating to a job that has nothing to do with your primary needs, and submitting our real life priorities to it. Even to go to the doctor, for example, I must excuse myself to my boss. I only go out to play with my daughter or visit my elderly grandma that won't be on this earth for much longer, when I am not working- it would seem almost absurd to skip a day at the office just to live a little. This is wrong, this is so not human. Okay: I have a job, and I actually like it, for since I have to make some money, I'm glad I'm doing it by selling my "talent" to people I like to be with, in a healthy environment.


 What takes me to the office everyday though, is either ambition or surrender: I have some targets, dreams I need money to achieve, and this job is nothing but a mean. And let's not discuss here how privileged I am for not depending on this or any job to survive, for that's precisely what I'm talking about: a lot of people is not working only for survival, not even to specific objectives, but for supporting unecessary luxury and status, while their actual lives await outside their meeting rooms and offline of the video conferences. And life, my dearest, does not get stuck in traffic. It passes, and before you even realize, your kids will be all grown up, you'll be old and rotting and your princess will be gone, maybe insane about her looks that fade, obsessed with plastic surgery and miraculous cosmetic, spending rivers of money in an useless attempt to be forever young, since there is no place in this society to the wrinkles of wisdom.

"To live is the rarest thing nowadays. Most people only exist." 

I can't just pass by. I prefere to think I came to this world to make it count. Not to impress others, but to get a great impression of this life. By the time I last close my eyes I want to be sure I laughed all I could laugh, cried everytime I needed to, tasted all the flavours I wanted to try, teached all I could offer and learnt all the lessons with my heart wide open as I keep it.

And that's why I love so shamelessly.

Looking at the bright side

If quality doesn't mean quantity, at least I can say that this year was the best of my entire sex life...

Here Lies My Hopes And Dreams

I was reading on the newspaper on my way to work, about a research they made among guys in my country. Results say that the thing they love most is beer. In second came soccer, and then women.

And for "women" - let's make it clear - they mean for sex. So, it means relatively good looking women they can have intercourse and/or show off as hunting trophies. They are sure not talking about relationships. Yeah, yeah, afterall it's so easier to have beer and follow soccer championships. It's even so easier to find a girl to have sex than to have a true relationship. No one seems to dream about sharing a life with someone anymore. I can't blame who thinks like that, when I notice myself there seems to be nobody left in this rondabouts that are worth sharing a life with. In a sexist culture, girls only need to be gorgeous - and that's what they pursuit over everything else, especially intelligence. I even know some - not one or a few, but some - very intelligent girls who don't mind of acting and speaking as retarded because they know this sometimes works better than trying to hook up an useful debate. After all, I know not a single guy who had fell for any girl's skills on philosophy or scientific, unless they have a good pair of boobs - Then, to make they seem intelligent themselves, they say they love her because of her brains.

I know my intelligence is not an impressive and my looks are a subjective matter, but all of my life I dared to dream about a partner who would be able to tell me funny jokes - and make an effort laughing at mine. Someone with whom I could watch movies from Jackass to Schindler's List together. Someone who notices there is more in The Fight Club than just fictional violence and can find some sense at the Hitchhiker´s Guide To The Galaxy. Someone who knows books at least by name and don't think it's shameful to admit he's been wondering about what's beyond the stars. Someone who looks at me and don't only think I'm cute, because there are lots of more beautifuls girls out there. Someone who doesn't rely on my intelligence, because I do a lot of stupid things all the time and am somehow afraid of responsabilities because of it, but someone who truly thinks "I'm holding onto this girl because she's her." Because I'm not make up, I'm not my fading looks, I'm not this blog, I'm not my job performance not even the writing I sell. In fact I get pretty bad self esteem problems everytime I try to level myself on any of this topics alone. I let myself down several times at all of them, and I would let you too.
I know I'm too demanding and this is not an open invitation. Just an outflow.

Sometimes I just feel the need of throwing my disturbed thoughs in the wind, and see if it brings back the old joy of being alive and waiting for the best that seemed always yet to come...

Remember February...

I was just making the famous "year-end cleaning" in my computer and found this pretty worthy sharing...

***

Showtime. He left backstage to the lights of another venue, his eyes are hurt by the reflectors as he tries to figure out the crowd standing. It seemed that everybody was there, but her.

He knew she wasn't coming. A reason more to be wherever. He smiles and nods with his head, sits and take a sip of whatever there was to drink. Smiles to a small group of girls in front of him, taking pictures. Give it up, she's not there.

Song after song he's letting himself go to the heady effects of music and alcohol. Almost happy as the night went on, he at some point caught himself looking to the bar entrance and smiled at her prediction. He doesn't bother facing the lights to take a better look around. He knows it just can't be. Life sucks.

As soon as the last note was played, his friend at the audience comes to say something. “I'm going backstage to do some stuff, then I'll be back to enjoy the evening afterall.” - that might be his excuse, or so. The ambient music was playing out loud and all the voices were again made notice. Anyway he turns away, takes his things and goes. Enters the desert dressing room without closing the door behind him. Still he hears a slam and looks back right on time of noticing that typical locking noise. “What..!” - he was been held hostage of a girl.

-The lights won't blind you now. -she says with an uncontrollable smile. She didn't wait for any reaction, no matter how much she would die to have a sight of the expression he would be holding at face, if he wasn't been violatedly kissed. Her lips tasted like a good whiskey and were hotter than moonshine, going all the way down up and down his mouth and ear as she was teasing him with her tongue. His hands wandered free all over her body wrapped only in a tight purple velvet dress, sometimes harder, than softer as if translating precisely the powerful discharge her skin contact meant. Oh how he loved that dirty princess, it sounded absurd to his thoughts to bother how come she was there. Better ask how come she was in his life. Again.

-You see, I´m not that cruel...You had your act. Now I'll have mine.

She was turning words into action as her hands worked fast on his pants. She pulled his underwear down using her teeth, and was actually swallowing him as whole when his music partner banged on the door.

-You there? Why is it locked?

He just couldn't think. Wasn't even able to figure the situation, and now it demands an answer. He looks at her, she didn't stop. She's licking his dick, sucking his balls out without taking her eyes off his and he notices that trampy smile in her eyes. She takes him off her mouth and then swallows again almost laughthing.

-Don't you realize that somebody may come in...

Still she doesn't stop, just start stroking him on a direction while she sucks in another. Her other hand was...

-What the fuck is happening there? Are you allright? - His mate bangs again.

-I'm fine, I'm going..! - he could barely say as he noticed she was pulling her breasts out of her dress, pinching her nipples to his hips and going deeper on her throat. He was swating as she could feel his heartbeat inside her, throbbing.

Some voice outside said “He might be with some girl..” and another voice – a female – answered “ No, I was the last person to leave backstage before seeing him going there by himself.”

He probably didn´t notice that, he was trying desperatedly not to scream nor letting her laugh out loud. She was moving faster and going stronger, her lips and tongue went all way in, out, up, down, across – he couldn´t possibly figure anymore. She squeezed his cock between her tits and sucked him gently til he cum inside her mouth. But she didn´t swallow it all: she let it go on purpose, dripping on her breast, her mouth, her face, herself.

The door was opened. She jumped. Laughthing, the little bitch.

-Get outta here! - he said

-Where should I vanish for? - she goes to the toilet, blowing him a kiss

-What was happening in there? Are you alone? - his friend asked, as a bunch of people came in along.

He didn't started coming up with an answer yet. The loud sound of the toilet flush annouced that he'd have a lot to explain.

What about she, just wouldn´t bother say a word. She wasn't even figuring what the heck they were saying in that foreign language.

I do love it. But...

I wonder if there is any other country in the world where you wake up in an early sunday morning with terrible screaming, explosions, cries and the massive sound of a roaring crowd that makes you believe the world is truly ending, but it's only a soccer match happening in the other fucking side of the world...

Easy recipe

Ahead is the only way to go

Unboxing the remains of my old life that that arrived this week. I got sad to think that I had a place for everything, and now I have no idea what to do with most of this stuff. Besides the pictures, I wasn't really missing anything. I wasn't even thinking about anything. And now I am. That another circle came to a definitive end.

Doors are closing right behind me. It's been happening for all my life, and I never noticed that before.

Up...

Up to day two. Not even eight in the morning and I'm smoking a fucking cigarette.
Going to work at the sound of one of my favourite songs ever. I kinda doubt anyone of you readers ever listened to it (well, maybe one did) , but I like it very much especially because it starts slowly and soft as an alarm clock should, then it gets bit sad, then comes a part where I can go to the beach in my thoughts, and then heavy metal reminds me I'm stuck in this fucking city again. Pretty much fits.

And I have no clue what I´m talking about. I´m late, it's raining.

This is going to be another shitty day...

This guy must be into some really shitty music...

Sorry for posting something this sick.
Just had to. I had never seen anyone paying compliments for a fart before...

Em. pt .y

So, as it always happens, no matter how much I make plans, life comes over and changes everything I thought I knew about my close future. I quit my job on monday and I was ready to spend, I dunno, two or three months unemployed. But it's only thursday and I'm already working on a new office, on a new job. And this because it isn't easy to find a job down here. I have always been lucky, this I know. But I'm just starting to consider that maybe my work isn't so shitty as I thought either.

The new office is cool. People are nice and I'm thankful I'm back to creative working again. I'm also making quite good money in a very nice neighbourhood.

Still, must be something missing. Still I don't feel like smiling.
Still, I'm not feeling happy.

Just like starting over

So, yesterday was quite an extraordinary day, afterall. At least I lived some moments that don't happen everyday.
The best part was to receive a mail package containing stuff I didn't even know that still exist. My books, old pictures and souvenirs from a life I thought it was truly over and gone, stuff I was pretty certain that was destroyed - found hid on the house I used to live. I was so happy I cried in relief.

Today it's the first day of a brand new life for me.
Moving forward in 3... 2...1... Go!

By the way

Bit unmasked

Everytime I read twice any of the posts of this blog, I kinda feel disappointed at my ability of written communication. Some things really could use an emoticon to a better explanation, but I'd hate myself for flooding this blog with emoticons. Emoticons are silly and I am supposed to be sexy and mysterious.
As you can see, I have a problematic personality, and the problem is that it shows (a smiley would really be useful here). At some point it will always come out to ruin any possible mature impressions that one may have of me.I will come up with a totally unfit funny observation that I know I should keep to myself.

 Like the day I was still quite new at the office I was working. There was this guy who was always singing the new hit "Oy, oy, oy!" , but all the time he sang it " Yo, yo, yo".  I had noticed that, but of course I would never make any comments on that to anyone. What for? Let the guy sing and be happy..!

But there was the day our boss actually said, on a friendly talking "The song goes "oy, oy, oy", but you are all the time singing "yo,yo,yo". Why?

And now comes that moment when I knew I should keep my mouth shut than ever, but the answer that I almost said out loud gave me such a laughing acess that of course they noticed I was laughing at her question, so I was forced to say:

 "He 's been singing in front of the mirror..."

See? I'm a basket case, don't even bother. You know you're only here for the porn... =)

Period.

Periods are funny. Okay, maybe "funny" isn't the word for that. I don't think it's comfortable to walk around with that little diaper, but if the bleeding is something easily managed with different alternatives, the pain and the hormonal rollercoaster are not that controllable.
I am not that kind of girl who uses pms as an excuse. In fact, I mostly don't believe I have pms and the fact the whole world becomes shittier and the people gets more annoying on the week I'm having my periods is just coincidence. Or not even this: just that before the bleeding, I'm usually feeling fat, my skin usually gets worse, my womb hurts _a lot_ on the most unpredictable moments and I have this continuous urge to have sex. Yes, way more than normal. So, there is your recipe for a timebomb, and in order not to set the place on fire, forget the extinguishers and bring me a vibrator and a box of chocolates.

Or surrender.

Daydreaming

One day, I'll please you whole. Just lay down and relax while I touch your body with mine, feeling every inch of your delightful skin...let me feel my breasts against your chest, wrap my legs around your waist and feel your hot breathe so close to my lips again. Tell me what you want, what you like, how may I satisfy you before I demand you to fuck me wildly. I'll climb upon you and reach back with my tiny hands to your huge cock, guiding it inside my wet pussy...I feel it hard and hot in my hand before forcing the tip though my moisted tightness. Legs spreaded, I sit hard on your lap, moving my hips up and down, back and forth, as if you could go any further inside me. Squeeze my tits that are bouncing to your face, finger fuck my ass while you shove your dick in my cunt. I´ll scream and moan loud, begging you not to stop. Make me cum and feel me contracting before feeding me nicely. Let me suck you til I swallow it all. Look at me, I´m good at it. I'll be a good girl.

I promise.

Can hardly wait

Probably the first time in a decade that I feel really anxious about an upcoming movie.
It only hurts me not to have the company I wanted to share this experience...

A little bit of existentialism

It's funny to be an human. To be having this life experience is something so unique, and people don't usually pay attention to it. I bet there is at least one very interesting thing about being oneself to everyone. Definitely there is a lot of interesting things about being me, I think. First is my appearance that doesn't match my personality at all. Not counting by my height, I guess there's nothing about my looks that expresses my essence. And if you think this conversation is weird, you should try the feeling of looking in the mirror and thinking "Who the fuck are you?".

Second, the absurd luck that I've got that the most amazing things seem to take place in my life. I still don't get it how come is it possible that I'm all the time living through something that seems to be one in a million chances. I'm not a person who sees an opportunity on every occasion: things just happen. And most of them, money can not buy.

Third, the long list of little pleasures we can only get as humans... sex and gastronomy. I could also say music, but I think music, as probably every other form of art and inspiration, is a more spiritual experience, a pleasure for the soul way beyond the senses. That's - I think - the reason why it's so nice to listen to music, we love background soundtrack in the movies and stuff.


And sex. Sex is great. It is so good, that some people even get crazy on it. I'm talking about that people that are either too promiscuous or too prude, either can't turn down sex or classify humans as hetero-homo according to their sex preferences as if it mattered more than character itself. I might not understand what makes someone gay, as much as I truly don't understand why I should care about it. I know what I want and what my butt is up to. Whatever others do to their own butts, is their business, and was never something I was bringing to consideration when making friends for all tastes.

There are stil a lot of things to be enjoyed about simply being alive, at this time, on this planet. I've been living wonderful moments that brings me the most overwhelming feelings to build amazing memories. We have technology, we can travel, we have incredible resources for audio and video productions, we have communication. It's a nice time to be here. It's a nice time to be me. And you. And all the human life that might be reading this lines now.

Every life is extraordinary.

Hamalka's Pearls of Wisdom:

"A good laugh is like an orgasm of happiness."

A secret so dirty

 I love anal licking. Both giving and receiving. And I love to lick and suck nice balls too. I know it's things guys usually don't like - or at least don't assume. I'm not getting into the reasons for one to take it or not, but fact is that it's a thing that really turns me on, and I usually don't try or suggest, because I can't predict the guy's reaction. So, you can breathe peacefully, if eventually having sex with me, for I won't rape anyone's manhood if not asked clearly for it.
But yes, I really enjoy it. And I don't remember telling this to anyone before making this public worldwide announce.

Now you can even think I'm sick, but at least a clarified sick..!

What's your secret?

No shit it was Friday...

           Yes. The first Friday I'm not working nor dead fucking tired of doing so. I was even invited out, but I can't. I'm not sure if it's worth telling you readers why I ended up choosing to stay at home tonight when for the first time in quite a long time I really feel like going out and have some fun, even if this meant only sitting around a convenience store, having Ices and few cigarettes with an only friend. It's a very sad and personal story I hoped  to be drowned in vodka in a few hours. Luckily I still had some left.

           Of course I was expecting the night to be a complete waste, but somehow - in a way I will always ask myself how come - turned out into something good. Maybe I just can afford to be indecently optimistic because of these smiles life saves for me among the darkest corners of my existence.

           And suddenly tonight I don't really feel like telling you again how good it is to be fucked by his dick. It seems boring to describe once more the lustful feelings of his parts against mine. Suddenly tonight I wish I could make you figure the charming sound of his laughing, the childish innocence of his smile. I know you might get the chills when I write about the dripping orgasms he gaves me, but  would you be able to understand how it feels when we're holding hands, caressing each other's thumbs? And when he gently takes my hair out of my face, this never gave me nipple erections, but get my heart so warm I could feel my spirit melting. And you'd never guess that his eyes shine brighter when he's telling something funny than giving any of his hottest sexy looks. That ones that makes me wet only in remembering it. A chemistry so powerful I can bring it over and over, night after night, the same fantasy, the same memories kept with the whole of my body to recreate the best moments almost as if I could feel him inside me.

But no matter how many words I can use, I will never be able to make any other person to have the slightest glimpse of how do I feel when I see him doing something funny just to make me smile. Or when he smiles at something funny I do -even involuntarily. Specially involuntarily, I'd say.

             But while writting about his sex usually fills me with his presence, remembering about his love makes me conscient of his absence. As if his essence lived among the lines of each erotic story, and every sweet memory of his being was telling that he's not here. And I dunno whether I'm lucky or cursed. All I am sure now is that i'm going to sleep.

Happy.

=)

Still a worthy warning

Sad reminders...

I'm living through times when the everyday birth control pills and the periodic brazilian full wax are nothing but sad reminders that I'm not having any sex in the real life.
And if Holy Ghost appears, it will take a bigger miracle to get me pregnant.

Spiritual art

         Last night, Oscar Niemeyer passed away. Less than a week before he turns 105. For those who might not know, Oscar Niemeyer is the greatest brazilian architect. He was a comunist, but was financially supported by the government. He was an well knowed atheist, but of course there was a catholic mass in his honour. And now everybody in the Facebook seems to know one of his very wise Yoda-like quotes, and follows it with all the heart.
            I don't really care about the guy's life's inconstancy. Everyone of us humans have our own paradoxes. I doubt that any of the people that accuse Niemeyer of living on the public money, would refuse to receive any benefits the government would offer. Either comunist or not. This doesn't take off his merit of being an amazingly great architect. His touch of genius wasn't so sutil that only true appreciators of the art would get it. It was a talent so obvious that seemed great from the simplier to the fanciest points of view.

            The guy had an amazing gift - and had a long and comfortable life because of it. I guess it's a dream for anyone who can dream at least a little. And he worked to the end, and he loved what he did. Married, with kids and legacy with over a century in this planet. It's quite a reward.

               Of course he wasn't perfect, if he was he wouldn't be wandering this Earth, but he was lucky enough to be born and raised on an age when humanity is evolved enough to appreaciate his art, and his dreams could take form through the modern technology.

             What comes in the afterlife it's something we all will definitely know someday,but stil to most of us it seems a knowledge so out of any acceptable definition right now. The only thing I am sure is, that the truth about what happens it's just one and the same for all human beings. But I can't say whether beliefs or religions are either right or wrong. So, it's not usually something I take as criteria for figuring out someone's character. In fact I think it's very interesting to know and make contact with different people with different points of view on that, so if I can't figure what it's called God in all Its wonder, at least I can understand more about humanity and humans, knowing about what we believe in.

             Troubled but good essences, may produce overwhelming arts, but the real bad essences just can't. It's a matter of sensibility: creative people are natural sensitives, and that's precisely what makes them creative. But to be sensitive doesn't mean that one will be all the time sensing good stuff. Like our nose that its not only useful to smell the roses, but it also to sniff the manure.

             Well, whatever happened to Niemeyer's essence and no matter people are honouring or crucifying him on the social medias, it's all taking part now. And I doubt it can be anything that bad about his existance, for although I didn't know him in person to say he was a great personality, I don't think anyone with such a refined sense of art could be that terrible person. It's not that media and common sense never takes bad people as talented idols, but you can always recognize heaven's sent from hell bent. Even when they're wearing that "evil" pose. Yeah, like "Megamind". Or "Despicable Me". Or some people I know. You know. And mostly everyone knows someone who likes to wear that "evil" looks, but is all heart from inside. I wish I could be one of this persons.

             But I'm afraid I'm actually plain trouble indeed.

My writer's dream

Chapter Two: Taking the first step

            It's weird to wake up knowing that life will be different from now on. I guess we experience these moments some times in our lives. When we start going to school or the day after the graduation, when we got married or divorced, the first morning you wake up to see the smile of your newborn, or when you move to a different country, city, neighbourhood or house. To everybody, at some point, comes a different dawning.

            Yesterday I quit my job. I had to do it, for I had this feeling I was quitting my life. I may not have money, beauty, fashion sense or any talent, but I'm a free spirit and I hate to feel I'm not making each minute count. I tried my best to focus on the fact I was working with a great friend and among a few really nice people I got to know, We could eventually have a few drinks while working, and this gave me an impression of social life somehow. Bullshit, I was still trapped in an office far away from home and where my heart is, performing a job well below my capacity.
             Well, not anymore.

             I still ain't sure about what comes next. But if even the longest journeys begin with one first step, I guess I'm well on my way.

Chapter One: A new road

                   Still in bed, trying to hide from the tuesday. I am that kind of person who can stay in bed for hours, waking up and sleeping again. I never do that, though. The last time I remember just being in bed the whole day it was probably over years ago, when I was unemployed and single, at the comfort of my mommy's house.
                    It seems that things started to change in my life. Probably for better, though right now it seems pretty frightening. Not that I'm afraid of changes, I just sometimes feel lazy in embracing new opportunities in life, even when they are amazingly unmissable. I recognize in the past I let so much great things pass by only because I didn't want to face the new.
                    I still have, in front of some opportunities, that feeling of stepping back. But today I learnt to take these chances in despite of these feelings, because the gifts life gives to me are no ordinary. Some people work very hard, study way too much, makes huge efforts to be where I naturally find myself now, because "destiny" - or whatever you want to call it - put me here. And I'm not intending to sound cocky here, I'm not saying I'm better than these people or anyone. Still can't deny I'm a privileged - though I have no idea why.
                     Maybe luck is a road everyone may follow, but people seem to be too busy to stop and read the signs...

Watching over me

 Saturday night. Home alone again. How many times I wrote this already..? And I don't even feel like putting any efforts in reversing this situation. I don't miss that busy social life I used to have. And it's not like I am feeling old or grumpy or anything. Maybe it's just lack of good company. Maybe there's just nothing interesting to see out there anymore. I live in a big city where everything seems to be happening all the time, and big news are never big news for me. Or maybe it's all an excuse to go on with my 13-year-old-boy's behaviour, when playing videogame and watching porn seems to be the best thing to do on the leisure hours.

  That was precisely what I was doing earlier this evening: after half a day in front of the PS3, I went to my room to watch some dirty movies on my notebook. It's nice to find some good plotted ones, so I can follow the story until I get excited at the point of starting to play with myself. It was the story of a girl who was full of debts and was going to be evicted, so she decides to finally propose sex to a very rich acquaintance of hers, in exchange of the money to pay the rent. But the guy is married and full of sex fantasies he can't fulfill with his wife, for she's very prude. There was some sick stuff among his desires, but also pretty good scenes. At some point, she was feeding him chocolate she put inside her pussy to melt, and he was penetrating her with strawberries and enjoying that dirty fondue. He made her cum with a banana, and truly, I still dunno either if that was arousing or just plain bizarre. Anyway, my panties were so soaked I could feel my thighs wet.

  I was watching a bondage scene from the same movie, where the guy was giving her an erotic massage. As his fingers slid through her tightness - and she had quite a small pussy for a porn actress - I pulled my panties a little bit aside to rub my swollen clit. Slowly, so I could enjoy it the most I could before cumming. He started licking her, oh, I know the feeling. She moaned and I felt like closing my eyes, but didn't want to miss a thing of that view. I pulled my head back for a second, and noticed Mr. Red was there, observing me.

  -You're busted..! - he smiled. For a second, I blushed and didn't know what to do, but he whispered -"Don't stop".

  He came to me and spreaded my legs a little bit. I focused on the screen and continued touching my shaved pussy, partially hid by the thong I was wearing. He just ripped it out and stayed by my side, watching me caressing my pussy with the tips of my long pink polished nails. Even the armchair I was sitting on was starting to show a wet stain.

  - Insert a finger on it...You know you want it. - Red was whispering, and his voice and his hot breathe close to my neck were devastating. I put one finger in and out, slowly. Biting my lips and moaning, as he watched that. With my other hand, I started caressing my breasts. "Another one..." - he asked. I did it. "Now taste it..."

         I was madly sucking my fingers as if they were covered in melted chocolate. In fact it was an exciting flavour of sex and cum that made my mouth ready for my favourite dish. But he freed my breasts out of the strapless blouse I was wearing and started squeezing my tits from behind me, while we both watched the guy shoving his huge cock on that tiny pussy. Mr. Red was pinching my nipples that were pink and sore, begging for his mouth to bite and suck it. I could feel his dick on my back through his pants, as he leaned over to kiss me, his hands now holding my pussy opened, while I continued finger fucking myself. He pulled my hair down, forcing my head back, and took that big cock out, rubbing it to my face.
 I felt a drop of moist sliding to my asshole and I sobbed. "I need to suck you..." - I said. "Just say please." - he answered.

  -Please, let me suck you..!

  He rubbed his dick on my lips, taking it away everytime I meant to grasp it. "Keep your hands working" - he put my hands back to the middle of my legs. "I never saw your pussy as swollen as it is now, you little dirty bitch..! I won't make you cum this time, you'll have to work it on yourself."

  I started licking his balls, and he was sliding his cock to my lips, giving only the head for me to suck. The room was silent not counting for our moanings and the incredible loud sex the movie couple were having. The girl was riding the guy with his cock shoved on her asshole, all opened to the camera, a reverse cowgirl with her big boobs bouncing. An almost perfect scene, if not for the fact we could see she wasn't any wet, while I was dripping moisted.

  -You like to take it in the ass, don't you?
 -Yes..! - I whispered.
 -Say it. Loud.
 -I like to have your cock upon my ass until I beg for you to cum...

  He finally let me suck him. In fact he was fucking my mouth, shoving his dick down my throat and against my cheeks. Sometimes he stopped and begun wanking while I licked that hard hot tip. "I'm gonna cum." - I mumbled. So he turned over the armchair and aimed to my pussy, covering it with his load, without touching it. And feeling that warm jizz dripping to my clit I had one of the most overwhelming orgasms I could ever experienced.

  At least without being really touched. For as soon as my breathing came back to normal, I realized the movie had ended, and I was completely by myself again.

Again, that greasy pleasure.

  I've been thinking a lot about one of the greatest fascinations of mankind: bacon. It's funny how everytime I open my Facebook there is people talking about love, cats and bacon. Everyday I receive at least two posts mentioning these subjects. Love is food for the soul. The cats were worshiped as gods in the ancient civilizations and it seems we never forgot it (neither did them). And bacon...well, not counting a few vegan friends I have, it's probably the favourite ingredient of everybody else I know.
              A couple of months ago,a British association of pig breeders announced that the world may experience a shortage of bacon next year. This would happen because the corn used to feed the pigs is getting way too expensive, in result of the droughts in the United States, so they have to slaughter the animals before they get to the mature point - when they're good for bacon.
             Well,bacon is not essential for our lives. Even less than sex, though I read somewhere online that Canadians choose bacon over it. In fact,if you google for sex + bacon you'll find that a lot of people connect the two subjects. I choose to think it's only because both are very pleasant. If there is actually some fetish about bacon, I'm not sure if I'm ready to know...
              But let's get real: bacon is unhealthy almost as much as it is delicious. Not illegal, maybe not imoral, but sure is fattening. As everything good on this Earth, it had to be one of the three.
               And it's universal. We can find bacon and people who love it pretty much all over the world. In my culture,though, it's not common to have bacon as breakfast.
               Maybe this explains why I'm not a morning person...