this man as her own man.

2kfzi742

the night. Man. How you treated. A Aventure?
women do. Maybe. With more dismay. Hard to forget.
her life, only to remember the man.
She gave the man the most precious night.
she thinking of this man.
she miss this man.
this man as her own man.
man she knew it was not their man.
always thought he could forget the man.
but found that harder to forget than remember.
may not love a woman in this life to others. Perhaps the woman had become weak
love itself.
Maybe the women have lost her own.

man in an impulse.
the girl into a woman.
Perhaps for men, just a night of ecstasy.
But for girls. This is perhaps the night life. men's night only once
.
night is always a woman.
from girl to woman.
there are too many differences.
girl is so sweet. Carefree laughter in the sun.
do not know what love is. Do not know the unforgettable to care.
do not know what is missing. Do not know beyond redemption to miss.
women are not the same.
have their own man.
will have a mature vicissitudes. With loved blamed hated my heart broken.
no longer carefree. She knew cared about a person.
no longer innocent and romantic. She knew the fiercely to miss.
night. Gratitude for men and women are so different.
night. May determine the fate of an individual life.
night. For men. Perhaps the night.
night. For a woman. Perhaps that is life.
men to have had one woman and have a sense of pride.
men met again and again enjoying the pleasure of being conquered.
women do not want to have too much in the past. But only of those injuries
love a good person. This is enough.
women love men.
men love women?
men's night impulse.
woman for a lifetime.
women can not tolerate other people in mind.
all occupied by men.
woman love a man with a life time.
the night. Woman paid it all.
paid all the love of her life.
man you? Can still recall the woman?
man. No love. Do not such a night.
woman. Not sure. Do not easily give that night.
that night. Not only a dubious game.
that night. Perhaps the woman in exchange for a lifetime.
Time flies. How many years can a young woman do?
before the impulse. You think. Whether such a night.
make a woman happy?
not to leave damage.
a lifetime of regret.
not ... ...
love. To give happiness.
believe the world will seriously deal with all the men that night.
believe a man to understand the importance of this night for the women.
night. Or better.
Do not let a woman in exchange for a lifetime of happiness to regret night.
hope that this night is given to a woman's happiness,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], happy,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], healthy

woman 'for love sex,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],
men' pay for sex love,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], br> sex, it is harassment 'of love,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],
girl,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], please behave!

[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]

[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]

[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]

We were driving along the road from Treguier to Kervanda. We passed at a smart trot between the hedges topping an earth wall on each side of the road; then at the foot of the steep ascent before Ploumar the horse dropped into a walk, and the driver jumped down heavily from the box. He flicked his whip and climbed the incline, stepping clumsily uphill by the side of the carriage, one hand on the footboard, his eyes on the ground. After a while he lifted his head, pointed up the road with the end of the whip, and said--
"The idiot!"
The sun was shining violently upon the undulating surface of the land. The rises were topped by clumps of meagre trees, with their branches showing high on the sky as if they had been perched upon stilts. The small fields, cut up by hedges and stone walls that zig-zagged over the slopes, lay in rectangular patches of vivid greens and yellows, resembling the unskilful daubs of a naive picture. And the landscape was divided in two by the white streak of a road stretching in long loops far away, like a river of dust crawling out of the hills on its way to the sea.
"Here he is," said the driver, again.
In the long grass bordering the road a face glided past the carriage at the level of the wheels as we drove slowly by. The imbecile face was red, and the bullet head with close-cropped hair seemed to lie alone, its chin in the dust. The body was lost in the bushes growing thick along the bottom of the deep ditch.