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"You fuck me harder when you're jealous," she smiled at me. "It's to teach you that you aren't missing out on anything." She walked up to me, a confident bounce in her stride."You'll have to remind me more often," she said, before planting a quick kiss on my lips. If there exists a man type called GD, who is the favourite long term mate for women, why would there exist a different type GG, what would we mean by this type being “better” when it’s not the long term favourite and how would it maintain itself ? My mother always accepted and always encouraged whatever I may have chosen for myself, and sweet talked my dad, who thought - and for very good reasons - that every new adventure of mine could kill me, knowing he can't stop me, trying thus crazedly, powerlessly to at least help me bring it to some close.Think about it, you’re predicating poor fit, and at the same time proposing this leads to genetic selectivity! Because you would like for it to work that way, isn’t it. Because if he helped, because if I succeeded - his ward - it meant he wouldn't lose me.You don’t make a better driver than the guy with the Ferrari. You both suck, in your own ways, which is why you each get the other. This will be a lengthy discussion, there's a lot of ground to cover and so, settle yourselves down comfortably and let's not waste any more time. Yesterday I was in Zalau so he again sorts out some shit for me. Because I knew he will fill up the bookmark bar with hundreds of links, I made a folder, "Recipes". Yesterday I solved for my father a problem that had been besetting him for years.And after he did the devil quarts and sorted it out, my father asked me to help him with something. And then showed him how in that very folder, he can make a folder. Through a ridiculously banal Chrome function, which I had no patience to explain the first time he asked, which was I think back in college, I fixed for him something like he had fixed for me without murmur, from one day to the next, paperwork, rents, excursions, life.

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I want quicker, each thrust eliciting short, sharp breaths and moans from her.

Today he went with me to the Zalau exit, towards Cluj.

He had prepared some soup and some other things for me to take along, but he forgot the bag at home.

Her eyes sparkled in pleasure, her lips puckered in "Ooh"s.

I angled my cock so it would hit her G-spot just right and she built to an orgasm.

" I'd been asking myself the same question for the past while. I kept promising myself I won't look at the things.

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