She came on my boat with its big bag girl. Greetings launched in haste, and she put her towel on the part of the sunny deck, where the gulls come get an eyeful when Tim or Katie come full sun. She seeks a position to sunbathe or it tries to turn me on. I do not flinch under my tricorn Sunday. She pretends to moisten his lips as if she had just put red or chafing balm. But I know not, and I imagine in his dark glasses, was fucking my mouth.
I dragged my boots around his place and I scraped my throat, I'll hire conversation. Guessing my intentions, she removes his spectacles and arranges his purple cloth which serves as a jersey ...
- You are captain, or common sailor? Taking the lead.
Captain, you've guessed. I said, smiling at my teeth uncertain.
- And you rinse the eye all day, or you work a little?
- sometimes I am a little hammock for visitors who love. I like to please!
- The place is on, you must have good days ...
is where the breeze of the afternoon gives me a hand and asked my campaign begins to float in the wind, and eyes I go around his house. The garden is flourishing and I guess find a stream where I appeased my thirst ...
She thinks I say something like: "Make yourself at home Captain, a little cinema c ' is good for a pirate! "
But no. She stares at me but more gently, and the wind continuing to be my ally, I walk a little more because I read as an invitation to his lips ...
Jack Rackham.
Photo: Sandra Bullock.
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