To be sincere sincere sincere, everything I do except watch the computer screen. I should not have access to Fb, or wandering sites crammed with attractive perversions.
Should I have my nose glued to the books to support the last exam of my life.
Then, no more teachers, no more questions, no more lessons. Nothing + schoolgirl spanked by failing to achieve the highest marks. Nothing + phrases like: "Give me a little 'check your manual" - "But you go to class?" "You arrived late? Are you studying?" and I weigh a lot, because me are repeated so many times by myself, in my mind, in the darkness of my room that the first time that L. The ordering them, believed to be plunged into one of my usual daydreaming.
not know if I'm ready for anything that ... maybe I could get to rewrite them for the third time at the university and prolong my insane youth, ghghgh ... or grow. I do not know.
fact is that to grow I do not see much there, and indeed like every Christmas I will take them from the irrepressible imagination of Pope 'Christmas .
him down the chimney. It's cold outside, so cold that even penguins have frozen my ass, and he arrives with his hot hot red dress, and his big, thick black belt.
Everything is like the best representations of those mushy squares of Northern Europe: the snow out lit tree inside, and milk and biscuits placed on display to give more generous welcome to the old world.
Then I, I have not slept, or rather I listen, because this Santa I just want to see it, and it's so exciting to stay awake at night when you feel great, "Look, if you do not sleep, this year is not to bring gifts. "
It finally arrives, I rush into the living room and see that it supports the presents, then, that stops here, feel my presence!
She looks at me puzzled and then kindly, and sits on the couch.
He sits on the couch with his hand does "pat pat" on his fat Gambone, and I explode with joy, because I can sit in the lap of Santa Claus.
Can I talk to him, ask him a lot of stupid things, and meet my every single morbidity! (Type if it is true that the witch broom and his aides if they are gay, or just the tights fetish)
Santa Claus tells me many things, that is a very nice person, that the world would be worse without me and is happy to bring me gifts every year, but then 'I said' You're a good girl, but not enough ... you know after all the gifts that I bring you should act better, you know what it would take? "and so, After this brief allusion, I smear on her knees like Nutella on bread, and slowly begins to fill of spanking my ass sounding.
But not content to blush through the piles of pajamas (which I have, but in my lust yes), but decides to drop his pants, and after many many spanking on the panties down those too, to make me red skin as the fire is crackling joins to my sobs and cries of disapproval.
I never got to think that the belt is loose. Think rationally, I would take the shot both buttocks and inspires me a lot, but I have always taken the view that the city's falling off his pants, and show so horrible mutant of tartan, the wife of Dad's Christmas Buy purpose, just because her husband is not attractive to the forest of pain Lolite grown like me, who could meet in his travels ...
And here the dream is shattered.
PS: If I had my man .. cmq I make this request after year .. I'd come up with 'I'm fucking red dress on ... to the wise .... :-D
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