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Sexy Shaved Blonde - Explicite-Art condom fucking
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Sexy Shaved Blonde - Explicite-Art condom fucking

Sexy Shaved Blonde - Explicite-Art condom fucking

Sexy Shaved Blonde - Explicite-Art condom fucking
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Okay guys, here’s an explicite-art gallery. I don’t know about you, but I’m not a fan of condoms in porn…. Sure it’s safer, yes, it’s a must have in our private lives, but porn is about fantasy. Fantasy doesn’t include STD’s. That being said, Explicite-art shoots it well, and I’m not too disappointed :)

Anyway, the nose knows…. Last holiday season, I had the good fortune of attending a rather fancy workplace holiday party as a +1. It wasn’t fancy in a sit-down multi-course gourmet meal sort of way, but it was held at one of the nicer restaurants in the city, and there were rather tasty and impressive appetizers being paraded around the room, along with an open bar.

One of the many tasty things I ate that night were what they called lamb pops – basically they did up rack of lamb, then cut the racks into individual ribs for serving. There were several of us standing in a small huddle near the tabletop grill where the attendant was doing a final sear and seasoning for these as they were being served – you’d walk up to his station and ask for the lamb pops, and he’d grab a couple of them, give them a quick sear, then sprinkle them with some sea salt crystals and put on a drizzle of balsamic reduction. Seriously good.

So there we were, a small clump of people, chowing down on lamb pops and exclaiming at various intervals about how good they were. Except for one guy. He didn’t even have a single pop. One of his work colleagues noticed, and inquired about this, encouraging him to try at least one, because they were so good it would be a shame to not even try one.

And this gentleman revealed that he actually really enjoyed lamb, and he was sure that the lamb pops were delicious, and that he was truly sorely tempted – but he was still going to decline. I can’t eat lamb, he said.

This, naturally, raised the question of, Why not?

The answer? It makes my dog sad.

He has a border collie – a dog whose breed was developed to herd and protect sheep, and their lambs – and when he eats lamb, the dog can smell it on him hours later, and treats him as if he’s been possessed by a monster and engaged in truly horrific, unforgivable behaviour. So he avoids having lamb so that his dog won’t give him the cold shoulder.

At the time, I figured the story was evidence of how sensitive dog noses are. Turns out, lamb meat has a really strong, persistent odour to it. Last night’s dinner was rack of lamb – my first time preparing it for the grill. (I did not do the grilling. I happily passed that task onto a friend who’s better with a bbq..) The lamb racks came from Costco, all sealed up tight in commercial vacuum packaging, and I cut them open yesterday afternoon in order to set them marinating. It was my first time working with lamb – I’ve eaten lamb that someone else has prepared before, but had never handled it raw myself.

Right from the moment I opened up the plastic wrap, I could smell it. And it got stronger as I pulled the 5 racks out of the plastic. Once I’d gotten them all sorted and tucked away in ziploc bags, thoroughly coated in marinade, I scrubbed my hands with the soap I keep in the kitchen, scented with ginger and vanilla. Still my hands smelled of lamb. I went on with my day – doing other dinner preparing stuff, then serving and eating the dinner, then watching a movie and having dessert.

And whenever my hands came near my nose, I could smell the lamb.

The smell only faded after I’d had a shower before bed.

So yeah. Lamb is powerful stuff. Knowing what I know now, I’d be shocked if a dog – any dog – couldn’t smell it on a person a day later.

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Evi F. and Presley H. from Joymii in a sexy FFM XXX threesome
Click the picture for a hot gallery of Evi F. and Presley H. from Joymii in a sexy FFM XXX threesome

Evi F. and Presley H. from Joymii in a sexy FFM XXX threesome

Evi F. and Presley H. from Joymii in a sexy FFM XXX threesome

Evi F. and Presley H. from Joymii in a sexy FFM XXX threesome
Click the picture to see sexy hot lesbians in a FFM threesome!

Okay guys, here’s a hot JoyMii gallery. It stars two really hot girls having a slow, sexy threesome with a lucky guy. All the joymii girls are incredibly attractive, and the porn itself is rather sensual… I’m going to be posting more of their stuff in the future!

Anyway, don’t judge… last haircut was in mid December.

I like to get my hair cut about three times a year – that way, there’s a decent amount of growth to trim down, and I feel like the whole expense of a cut is somehow more worthwhile. Realistically, it likely means that I just look kind of in need of a trim a whole lot of the time, but mostly I think my hair looks fine.

Mostly.

Last week I was not of the opinion that my hair looked fine. I thought it looked a bit odd at best, but sometimes downright terrible. I hadn’t done anything differently – I was following all my usual hair-related routines, but something was just not right. There was no more shape to it. It just kind of sat there, looking rather blah. I sort of noticed it on Tuesday, I think, and by the time Thursday rolled around I was angry that my hair was being so belligerent and uncooperative, and I was ready to do something drastic.

I was going to make an appointment and get a cut.

My own personal hair timetable says that my next cut should be late April, maybe early May. Given that we’re now into March, I’m really not far off from my next cut, but I was fed up and didn’t want to wait that long.

Then Friday got busy, and I never got around to picking up the phone to book the appointment.

And then, on Saturday, I woke up, and looked in the mirror.

And did not feel a surge of contempt.

I was not offended by the state of my hair. In fact, I could actually see some shape in the cut again, despite the shapelessness observed 24 hours previously. Again, I don’t know what caused the change, since I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.

Now, I’m thinking that maybe I could wait until April for my next cut.

I don’t think I’m going to count on that, though. Clearly, things are in some sort of state of flux, subject to the whims and fancies of some entity that is not me. I’ll still be calling the salon some time this week to arrange for an appointment.

After all. If Mr. Fancy Salon Guy is booked up, I may not get an appointment till late March or early April anyhow.
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Normal looking blonde fucked by big black cock
Click the picture to see a rather normal looking blonde teen get fucked by a black guy.

Normal looking blonde fucked by big black cock

Normal looking blonde fucked by big black cock
Click the picture to see a regular girl get fucked by a black guy
The interracial XXX video is here

Okay guys, here’s a semi-strange porn gallery. It’s a very average, regular looking woman getting fucked by a black guy. She doesn’t looked very ‘pornstar’ like. The set looks like it’s out of the 80’s, but I know for a fact that it was shot in the last 10 years. Laila Mason was born in 1986. It’s just something about her.. I’ve seen other XXX videos of hers that look just as retro.

Anyway, the elegance… The other night, I was fixing up dinner – homemade sweet potato ginger soup with some grilled sausage sliced up and dropped right into the soup.

I dished the soup into bowls, and then began slicing up the sausages… I deftly pierced the skin on one sausage with the tines of a fork, so that I could hold the thing steady as I worked on it with the knife. The sausage must have objected to my action, because it retaliated by spurting a jet of sausage juice, which left a trail of three greasy drops on the front of my shirt.
The visual.

This annoyed me. That being said, I do understand the sausage’s reaction – I’d be pretty ticked if someone stuck a fork in me, too.

I continued with the sausage slicing, with no further greasy mishaps, and proceeded to add the sausage to the bowls of soup. When I got to the last one, I thought I’d be clever and, rather than picking up the sausage pieces one or two at a time, I’d pick up the whole cutting board and sweep the sausage pieces neatly into the bowl.

The sausage pieces disagreed with my plan. Rather than tumbling in neatly, they sort of rolled around a bit, and I ended up dropping one on the countertop. Three of the others hit the soup like they were vying for the prize for best cannonball, and little splotches of soup scattered themselves over the countertop.

This was turning out to be a rather messy meal.

The final blow came as I finished off my bowl of soup, and I was settling back into my seat to enjoy my warm soup belly with TV, and I moved my arm so that my hand ended up brushing up against my shirt, and I noticed it felt damp. Perplexed, I looked down, and saw that somewhere along the way in my eating my soup, I had managed to dribble a bit of it down the front of my shirt, so there were now damp spots smelling faintly of sweet potato and ginger accompanying the spots of grease left behind by the insolent sausage.

I guess it’s a good thing I don’t eat out often…..
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Sexy Mature Hooker Pictures - XXX
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Sexy Mature Hooker Pictures - XXX

Sexy Mature Hooker Pictures - XXX

Sexy Mature Hooker Pictures - XXX
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Okay guys, here’s a hot gallery starring the mature Hooker theme. The ‘Hooker’ in this case, is an attractive milf named Brooklyn Lee. It’s sort of a fun theme.. A gorgeous girl comes late in the middle of the night… Gets paid a little bit of cash, and you both have wonderful sex before she slips out into the night – to never be seen again. It’s a kinky little fantasy – and I understand that quite a few people like the hooker fantasy.. (Not the actual hooker experience – but just the dark role playing fantasy.

Anyway, once bitten, twice paranoid… When I was a young girl, my mother would zip up my coats for me, and she would always warn me to be careful and not stick my fingers in the path of the zipper, and not move around while she was zipping up near my neck. I once asked her why, and she told me she didn’t want me to get pinched in the zipper. I asked how that could happen, and she pointed out the little teeth of the zipper, and showed me how they locked together when the zipper was done up. If your skin gets caught between the teeth, it’ll pinch and hurt, she said. You might even get a cut.

Now, I was quite young, and therefore had a rather rudimentary young child’s view of how the human body is organized and works. I knew there was blood on the inside. I knew that if you got a cut, then blood would come out. I had absolutely no understanding of the circulatory system, or veins or arteries or capillaries, so I suppose in my view – and I didn’t really consciously think this through, as is typical of young kids – a person’s skin served to keep all their blood in, and the bones and other things were sort of in a structured suspension inside the blood. Cuts in the skin allowed blood to escape. Small cuts like papercuts were no big deal, and healed up quickly enough before blood loss got critical. But I also knew that sometimes people stabbed other people to try and kill them, and the problem with stabbing was blood loss. So I must have figured that if a cut got big enough, severe enough, then too much blood comes out and the person dies.

So there I am with my limited understanding of how the human body is structured, and my mother is telling me that a zipper could give me a nasty pinch and maybe even a cut if I’m not careful. I distinctly remember running my finger along the plastic teeth of my coat’s zipper, and commenting that the teeth didn’t feel sharp, and that’s when Mum pointed out the locking action when the zipper is done up, followed quickly by an order to withdraw my fingers so she could finish zipping me up, and to watch out for my neck and chin as she zipped up the collar. All that put together left me with this notion that zippers are sort of evil, and could potentially cause severe bodily harm.

Consequently, even though I am all grown up now and have a better understanding of many things, I’m a bit nervous around zippers. Not so nervous that I avoid them altogether, but I still exaggeratedly retract my chin and neck when zipping up my coats all the way, or if I’m wearing a top that has a zip neck and I’m doing it up. Sometimes I cringe inwardly when I see other people behaving cavalierly with their zippers. Sometimes I cringe outwardly when I see other people behaving cavalierly with their zippers.

Cognitively, though – despite all appearances otherwise – I know that zippers don’t pose any real threat to me. Not even the ones with metal teeth that have slightly rough edges to them.

A couple of days ago, I was rushing out the door to go to work, and I was pulling on my boots, since it had snowed some. My boots zip up, so I reached down with my right hand to zip up my left boot as I reached for my handbag with my left hand.

Meaning I wasn’t really paying attention to where exactly my hand was going as it sought out the zipper pull.

Suddenly I felt pain in my pinky finger, and that got my attention – I stopped reaching for my handbag, planted both feet firmly on the ground, and then looked at my right pinky finger. I saw the cause of the pain – a slender slice had appeared in my finger, about half an inch long. As I examined it, the margins of the cut grew pink, and then a thin line of blood appeared.

I had cut myself.

On my zipper.

I took a closer look at the offending zipper, all the while trying to ignore the mounting fire in my finger. One of the teeth right at the top of the zipper – perhaps not even a tooth, but some other structural component of the zipper – had gotten a bit bent out of shape, and was now presenting as a jagged bit sticking out slightly from the boot. In my moment of inattention, I had essentially dragged my finger along that jagged bit, neatly slicing myself open.

It’s been a couple of days now, and my finger is still tender.

I have resolved to be much more careful around zippers.

They have teeth. They bite.
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Cute Russian Teen gets Anal - XXX
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Cute Russian Teen gets Anal - XXX

Cute Russian Teen gets Anal - XXX
Cute Russian Teen gets Anal – XXX
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Anyway, old habits die hard…
A few weeks ago, I happened to notice a few new Facebook requests come my way – one from my mother, one from my aunt, and one from my uncle.

I found this curious because these are three individuals that have, in the past, displayed limited interest in social networking sites like Facebook. It was particularly perplexing in the case of my mother, who has shown very little interest in computers in general.

As it turns out, the accounts were created so that they could play an online slot machine game that earns you loyalty points for use at MGM resorts in Las Vegas. My aunt really wants to see Vegas, so when she found out about this game she was all over it, and a number of other family members jumped on board as well, including my mother. Hence the friend requests – you get bonus ‘chips’ to play with for adding more friends, and you and your friends can send each other chips on a daily basis.

I took a look at the rewards being offered, and they’re not bad – it’s not as if you need a ridiculous amount of points to be able to get anything, and it’s not as though all you can get are souvenir dice and cards – though you can get those too, if you wish. There are some complimentary nights, room upgrades, dining credits, show tickets. It may turn out that there is also some fine print once you go to claim one of these rewards that restricts the usage in some way, but so far I am reasonably intrigued.

After all. I like Vegas, too.

So I accepted their requests and started playing myself. There’s a small variety of different slot games, with the usual sorts of variation found with slot games, and I’ve settled in with one that I particularly like – not because I’m especially lucky with it, there have been times when I’ve sat down to spin the reels a few times and found my chip supply completely drained rather quickly. I like the way the bonus game works – the top prize isn’t as spectacular, probably, but you are guaranteed a prize from the game – and I like the fact that there are fewer psych-out wins. You know, the ones where the game makes all the happy noises like you’ve won, but really you’ve only gotten back a small fraction of your original bet. Like, if you’re betting 300 chips per spin, and you win back 40. Those tricky things.

Anyway, I’ve been playing, and it’s been fun, but I’m finding myself fighting my instincts a little bit as I play.

I keep wanting to cash out.

Of course, there’s no such thing – in fact, the whole point of playing is to basically spend as much as I can, to rack up those loyalty points. But whenever I’m up, a little voice tells me it’s time to cut and run, and I briefly look for the CASH OUT button. Which doesn’t exist.

I just hope that, when I next do get to Vegas, that little voice hasn’t completely been beaten down, and I remember to walk away from the machine when I’m up.

If I’m up. Because, you know, the house always wins….

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