EmiNovely

Welcome to my personal space..✨💕

In the moon's dance in the serene night, rises the woman, sublime and full. With her starry, mysterious gaze, she weaves dreams into the silent gloom. Her walk is poetry, butterfly cadence, where sensuality slips, beautiful. In the curve of her lips, a whisper, the echo of secrets that only the soul conjures. Her eyes, two chandeliers, flashes of desire, paint landscapes on the canvas of longing. The skin, a poem that the light caresses, like whispers of the breeze in delight. In the night, its essence is revealed, a mystery that awakens the consciousness.. Sensuality dances in the shadows, like the melody of a soft grave. Oh, woman, charm in the symphony, where sensuality is poetry. In every gesture, in every corner, your essence becomes a song.

Under the moon's mantle, in its silver halo, a woman blossoms, a delicate art. His presence, a poem, without equal, in the dance of the night, a festival. In her laughter, the breeze caresses her skin, a soft murmur that slips like honey. In her eyes, the glow of a universe, secrets kept, a mysterious verse. Her walk, light as leaves in the wind, leaves trails of passion, an eternal movement. In the twilight, his figure is a painting, a masterpiece, a clear dream.. Captivated by the magic of its essence, a symphony that charms the senses with presence. Sensuality that reveals itself in every gesture, like the gentle touch of a sweet protest. O woman, in your being throbs poetry, a melody that guides the night. Your sensuality, a verse in the dark, an ethereal dance that illuminates the soul.

Do what you want with me, I'm your whore. Part of 1.

I should have stayed home that day.. I had quit my job and saving money was a priority.. A few months ago I was living in another city.. My previous boss had proposed that I be promoted to a commercial office 400 km away, in the town where I had grown up and lived until a few years ago.. My girlfriend didn't take it well.. But, unconvinced as I was, I moved out and we decided to continue our long-distance relationship.. ¿Why did I decide to quit? Well, the office was a mess.. And while he was trying to restructure, a terrible crisis hit the country.. They cut our funding, forced me to lay off staff, took away our benefits and increased targets.. Besides, my girlfriend had put the ultimatum on the table.. You either come back or this ends here.. Well, that Saturday I was supposed to pack, grab my savings and come back.. Somehow I had to say goodbye to the city.. A friend invited me to his mother's birthday party and I agreed without hesitation.. It was 8:00 at night and a message popped up on my screen.. - ¿Where are you? Where are you? I'll stop by? He was a good childhood friend.. And it turns out my friend's mother's birthday invitation wasn't the only one I got that day.. My friend was expecting me to accompany him to a friend's house that we shared and that was also his birthday.. However, I was a little uncomfortable with the birthday girl and had avoided crossing paths with her during my stay in the city.. Even so, I gave him my address and in 20 minutes we were in his car on our way to a party he had been looking to keep off the agenda.. The meeting was at our friend's house.. And it was she herself who came out to meet us when we arrived.. When he saw me he lowered his gaze and I couldn't help but smile. She and I knew each other for years.. We were almost like two great friends.. We had inside jokes that only we knew the meaning of.. We'd been drinking at parties and singing in karaoke completely drunk.. We had told each other secrets and counseled each other in difficult times.. And one day, after a few drinks and crying on his shoulder over my girlfriend's infidelity, we ended up in the same bed, under the same sheet, naked and drunk.. By dawn, we had no memory of what happened.. We just move on with our lives.. It was over a year without seeing each other, without writing, of acting like strangers.. Though, none of us remembered what had happened that night of sad stories and empty bottles.. We could have slept all night.. He invited us in and gave me a very warm hug.. I had forgotten how well we got along before the "incident"". We talked for a long time.. We're back to being those friends from the past.. I told him I was back with my girlfriend and that I was now preparing to go back to his town.. Other guests arrived and she went to the door. It was a good night.. There were some familiar faces I hadn't seen in a while and we mingled with unfamiliar faces, but with a great sense of humor.. I needed another beer because the heat, and the other five I had taken, demanded it.. I took the order off the table so I had to bring at least six beers with me.. I found my friend in the kitchen, and I had already drunk enough to forget how uncomfortable I felt with her and we joked again as years ago had been the custom. I took my way back to the terrace, but I seemed to hear her say something. I didn't hear you right.. I went back to her and asked her to repeat it.. She came up to me while I was smiling waiting to hear what she had said.. I was paralyzed.. Not only did he not repeat a word. But he clung to me and kissed me. It took me a few seconds to react and walk away from her.. However, there was no scandal or complaint. I just smiled and came back with the beers on the back.. The night is over. Just like you passed glances and smiles with the birthday girl. The party came to an end and my friend made the sign that made it clear that he would take care of taking me home.. We were the last to leave because we let in everyone who wanted to say goodbye to our friend.. Already at the door, my friend said "goodbye, thank you for everything". He went out and. It was my turn to say goodbye, she took my hand and we stared at each other for endless seconds.. I don't think we needed to talk.. My friend followed, lit his car and drove off.. She closed the door and without letting go of my hand she stuck her body to mine, stood on her toes and we kissed. Their kissing is compared to the effect of a gasoline on a fire. Its function is to give fire intensity and to make it spread at an impressive speed.. Her fleshy lips were a delight. His little bites on my lips were burning me up inside.. It took one kiss to make my penis totally hard.. And she knew it.. What was going on behind his door was wrong, it wasn't right.. My conscience made one last attempt to overcome my instinct and show me the way forward.. I should have left then.. I was at the point of no return..

Continued 2…

Do what you want with me, I'm your whore. Part of 2.

We were kissing like crazy.. There was no tenderness in our encounter. That was ravenous hunger and fleshly despair.. Suddenly we were on the terrace of his apartment, stumbling across the chairs and tables from his party.. Her hair was no longer there and my hair was out of order.. My hands were clutching her buttocks tight and my mouth was running down her neck.. I lifted her up very easily as we kissed desperately.. Her blouse quickly faded and her breasts appeared before me, perfect and erect.. Her nipples got into my mouth and my tongue made them stronger. Without asking, he let go and his hands went straight to my pants.. He lowered it hard and knelt in front of me.. He licked my dick from bottom to top. He put my testicles in his mouth.. He stuck his hand on my penis a million times and masturbated to my pleasure.. Her eyes were watering from the involuntary reflex, but that didn't stop her from sucking it all over her.. We just got rid of the last of the rag we were carrying.. And, with some violence, I bent her face down on a table. His hands showed me what to do. She split her buttocks open and let me see the entrance to her vagina.. It was glowing because it was so damp.. I didn't even think about it and as I held her by the neck, with my other hand I tucked my penis in and started penetrating her nonstop.. Their moans and mine could be heard for miles.. His hands let loose their buttocks and grabbed the tablecloth tightly.. I started to slap, one after another.. To print my nails on his back. Pulling her hair. Shouting at her that she was my whore, my sex slave, that my penis belonged to her and that my milk was all hers.. I grabbed her wrists and put them on her back.. I asked him to tell me what he wanted from me.. And all I heard her say was, "Do what you want with me, I'm your whore". He slipped off my shoe and reopened his buttocks as I penetrated her.. What a beautiful ass and what a beautiful ass. I couldn't take my eyes off her.. I dropped saliva on him.. I stopped. I pulled out my penis and without thinking twice I started seeing my glans getting lost in his ass.. She sliced her buttocks harder and let out a scream drowned between pleasure and pain. He came back to me and said, "Give me. Hard. Hard. Hard as nails". And so I did.. With unknown fury I penetrated her ass as the beginning of my abdomen crashed into her buttocks.. His tight ass hugged my cock and his moans made me lose my head.. We forgot we were on a terrace, uncovered, with several buildings around it.. She turned her back on the table and I grabbed her ankles tight as I opened her legs wide to freely savor her vagina.. I walked the tip of my penis through her vaginal lips until I ended up back in her back door again.. He was good at anal sex.. And we keep going. I just lay on top of her without stopping.. She kissed her breasts, her lips and her neck while repeating in my ear, "Give me. Hard. Hard. Hard as nails". I couldn't take it anymore.. I felt my abdomen boil and my erection get harder.. I took her legs by the back of her knees and led them towards her.. Her breasts moved freely and her hands didn't let go of the tablecloth.. His words were lost between "How rich", "Give me", "I'm your whore"". ¿Where do you want my milk? I asked. In the ass, she said.. And I sped up as I felt like I was filling his ass with my semen.. I haven't lost that strength in a long time.. We kissed for a long time after that.. We're headed to the shower.. It only took a few kisses under the warm water to see my erection grow.. And again, she turned her back to me, leaned back a little, inviting me to penetrate her.. We're still in bed, this time she's on top of me.. His hands on my chest and his clitoris rubbed against my abdomen.. It took a few minutes to see her breasts get firm and her neck turn red.. Her nails were buried in my chest, her head was backwards, her legs were stiffening and I could see her trembling.. I can't tell you how many times we made love that morning and the next.. I stayed at his house and we ordered food. We'd hydrate and eat ourselves back like the first time.. I ended up in her mouth, her boobs, her back, her ass and wherever our imagination allowed us to be that day.. We ended up in a state of ecstasy.. I didn't travel that week.. Neither will the next one.. In the end, I stopped traveling and my long distance relationship came to an end.. My friend and I kept seeing each other until we were tired of being alone.. We couldn't be alone for more than 10 minutes without ending up on top of each other.. Our relationship did not transcend. However, the lust we caused each other was present for many years. A couple of years ago I started a new relationship and we stopped talking.. Although, every now and then I think of her and fantasize about her, her body, her kisses, her bed.. ¿Will the same happen to her?

This morning, after my watch rang, I curled up closer to my boyfriend.. One of those mornings when you didn't have to go to work before me.. He cradled me with his arm and brought me closer to him.. I felt her get out of bed and I was a little disappointed.. I love being so close to him.. But then he came back to me, in the same position, me with my back to him and him with his arms so big and strong around me.. He started touching me.. He lifted my dress up to my breasts and his fingers started playing with my nipples.. It felt so sweet and my insides started to flutter. I started to get closer with my buttocks over her crotch.. And then I felt his dick hard and throbbing. His hands kept touching my skin, playing with me.. I wouldn't go down to my pussy, even though I would have loved it so much.. Then he took his dick and put it between my legs.. I had her warm and well prepared between my lips, moisturized with my juices.. That's when I lowered my fingers and started touching his cock head.. Oh, his wonderful dick.. I felt it start moving slowly between my thighs.. Rubbing my lips and my clitoris. It was driving me crazy.. My juices started filling him up even more.. She was well prepared and came in.. Strong. ♪ filling me up ♪. Just the way I like it.. I was in and out.. I liked the feeling so much... I almost drowned my moans.. I wanted more.. More loudly. I got more of it and so I started moving too.. We were both moving fast and so soon I had my orgasm.. My well-deserved orgasm. Only he can make me explode so fast.. He kissed me tenderly on the back and I felt that he was close too. And so it was, he pulled his dick out of me and filled my ass with his juices.. My pussy was still throbbing for him.. Maybe tonight we can do it again.. Thank you for this wonderful awakening..

Under the dimness of the room, their hands intertwined like two souls anxious to discover each other's universe.. Whispers of seduction painted the air as he drew imaginary lines on his back, revealing the secrets hidden in every fold of his being.. She, with her lips, weaves promises of fire into the skin of her lover. They slipped down the path of lust, exploring forbidden territories with the certainty that desire knows no borders.. Every caress was a poem, every kiss a stanza in the symphony of shared pleasure.. In the dance of their bodies, they discovered a unique language, a dialect of passion that only they understood.. Time was stretching, as if the universe were conspiring in her favor.. Every moment was eternal, every touch a chapter in the story they were writing with their bodies.. They plunged into the abyss of desire, where there was only them two, surrendered to the magic of unconditional love.. At last, when the last groan faded into silence, they were embraced, enveloped in the serenity that follows the storm.. In that room, steeped in whispers and promises, a pact of carnal love was sealed, a story that would continue to beat in the memories of two lovers who met in the dark of the night..

I worked in a cozy cafe on a busy street.. His daily routine was to serve coffee to busy executives and artists who sought inspiration from sips of espresso.. One afternoon, a stranger walked into the cafe, carrying a suitcase full of loose leaves and an air of mystery.. He introduced himself as Luke, a wandering poet in search of urban muses.. Martha, intrigued by his bohemian charm, poured him a coffee and listened to his verses full of metaphors and melancholy.. Eventually, Marta and Lucas started meeting at the cafe to share stories and dreams.. Between the crowded tables and the constant murmur of the city, they found a refuge where their worlds converged.. Together, they explored the neon-lit streets and hidden alleys, discovering poetry in the most unexpected corners of the city.. Martha became Luke's muse, and he, in turn, inspired in her a new appreciation for creativity and freedom.. In the midst of urban chaos, they found a corner where time seemed to stop, and the city became the setting for its own shared history..

I love music in general.. Not a day goes by that I don't listen to some (or a lot, usually) of music.. I don't have any priorities on this.. As long as a song is beautiful I don't care about its style, or its singer. Although it is true that I have certain singers strangled, that is, I can not stand. I like to sing (though I know it's not my thing) and I love to dance. Sometimes I feel like singing, sometimes I feel like dancing, and sometimes I just want to listen to good music.. It all depends on my mood. I love, especially for the first two options, those songs that you listen to constantly for a while everywhere but then you get so tired of it that you want to never listen to it again, like Paulina Rubio, Paola and Kiara (or whatever they say)),.

Of course, I hate other songs that have these characteristics but in my opinion they are the most unbearable: like those of the very young singer Raúl. I think there are moments in life that without music wouldn't be so special or even be unbearable to live, like long trips. The world without music would be really different..

A great speech to the flowers

Of all the flowers, ladies and gentlemen, it is the purple lily that most fascinates me.. Walking alone one morning through Palestine, a part of my purple consciousness took the form of a flower and was without thorns.. The air with a petal touched the hills opening the stone of the surroundings. To be a flower is to be a little color in the breeze. Dream of every flower in the morning check with wet fingers and hard cheeks to put on your face the moisture of your walls, the vegetable kingdom is a distant country even if we create it by hand. It is difficult to reach slender latitudes; better than the lady Compass, the young lauds. The rhythmic words way of the poem adhere to the intact suspicion of a yolk.

Something in my blood travels with the voice of chlorophyll. When I give a tree the branch of my hand I feel the connection and what distills in the soul when someone is next to a brother. Recently, in Tabasco, the great ceiba of Atasta gave me five directions of its existence. He hoisted the highest flags that in his vast memory the wind of the centuries had uselessly blown. Being a tree sometimes, is to stay looking (without stopping growing) the water humanity and filling with birds to be able, singing, reflect in the waves stillness and solitude. To be a flower is to be a little color in the breeze; the life of a flower fits in a smile. The penumbra orchids die from a poorly placed look from men who can 't see anything.. In the nests of orchids, the night lays an egg and the next day a new color is born.. The orchid is a flower of underwater origin. Once, I found some mushrooms, over in Tepoztlán, reminiscing about the history and fate of those flowers that nest so far from the sea.. When the nopal blossoms there is a slight increase in light. By hydraulic force the nopal multiplies its image. And among the thorns that torment, moment hummingbird to the flower qualifies. The Mexican people have two obsessions: the taste for death and the love of flowers.. Before we spoke Castile there was a day of the month devoted to death, there was a strange war called florida and blood streamed from the altars.. Also the calendar records a flower day.

Xochipilli stripped to the love of flowers. Her legs, her shoulders, her knees have flowers. Her fingers in the hollow, fresh flowers every hour. In her mask shines the deep smile of all loves. (In the streets we still see the streets full of the young Indians in which Diego Rivera found through the centuries the eternal bonds of a people standing that sows the same spring). In blood and flower the Mexican people have lived. He lives on blood and flower his memory and his forgetfulness. (When I say these things my heart sinks into my stone bed of clear, round water). If a rose-garden is wounded, sparrows will break it with glass, sparrow-hearts of glass, and the most wounded rose-tree will pluck a rose beyond the corners, where the forgotten names have silently suffered.. Nothing hurts us more than finding a flower buried in the pages of a book..

The reading is silent, and in our eyes, the sadness of love moistens the flower of an old tenderness.. (As you have seen, ladies and gentlemen, there is sadness also in this flower thing.). Of course, in the clear garden of April and May, everything is straight ahead and nothing sneaky.. It is such a garden then that the earth gladly moves the darkness it contains, and the vegetable soul that is in human life creates the sky and the clouds that invent the morning. These May and April stretches into October.. All the colorful valley of Mexico is covered and there is in her poetry of autumn spring a long feeling of hope waiting. I always go out in the country on those days.. (I always go out in the country). The rain and the man as always make the countryside tremble. That last garden, in the valley of October, has a deep end. I would like to say another sentence to the orchid; that sentence would be a stone sentence; but I already have hands so wild that the perfect words would come out of my hand in vain. May the last flower of this prose with flowers be a thought. (From thinking what I feel to feeling what the flowers think, the colors of the poetic face fade away the wind that hides in jacarandas the best words). I don't want anyone to know I'm in love.. Only flowers understand and hear this. To say accompanied me any purple lily: ladies and gentlemen, here we are finished.