LioraJenkins

The best pleasures are elegant in front and sensual behind

I love to feel like I'm reaching for heaven every time we talk, feel a great thrill and excitement when we cross looks and words, feel that you love me and make me yours with your look.

To enjoy life it is important to go hand in hand with desire and sensuality.

I like being your bad girl and you loving me so much that just looking at me you strip me and make me yours..

Welcome to my wonderland paradise

Let me know how much you like my sensual, provocative body. What is your wish? I wish I knew how I could help you, honey.

My name is Liora, I'm an interesting girl, I'm funny, elegant, naughty and sexy. I love a romantic, serious man who can have a good conversation about many topics. I love French culture and I like to travel the world.

In the bustling streets of the city, where neon lights flashed like street stars, lived Isabella, a young free-spirited artist with a special fascination for life.. But her life changed drastically the day she crossed paths with Alexander.. Alexander was a mysterious man with deep eyes that seemed to hold unfathomable secrets.. I was working in an old bookstore, surrounded by books whispering forgotten stories.. From the moment Isabella entered the tent, her heart beat faster.. Isabella's obsession started as a spark, but soon became an uncontrollable fire.. She started frequenting the bookstore, buying books she'd never read just to have an excuse to see Alexander.. He spent hours examining the pages, but his attention was always divided between the printed words and Alexander's magnetic presence.. In time, Isabella decided it was time to confess her feelings. On a rainy afternoon, with the soft sound of the drops hitting the crystals, Isabella plucked up the courage and confessed her infatuation. Alexander looked at her in surprise, but her eyes also reflected a deeper connection.. Though initially reluctant, Alexander could not resist Isabella's passionate charm.. They plunged together into a whirlwind of emotions, discovering that their souls were intertwined in ways they never imagined.. Isabella stopped obsessing and began to genuinely fall in love.. Together, they explored the city's alleys, shared laughter and tears, and created their own love story.. Isabella learned that the initial obsession had been just the prelude to something much deeper and more meaningful: a love that grew over time, rooted in mutual acceptance and true connection..

Under the dim light of the candles, Anne and Mark found themselves in a hidden corner of the city, where the murmur of the night intertwined with their sighs. The city was asleep, but they were awake to the magic that only shared darkness could offer.. They stared at each other, two souls who recognized each other in the gloom.. His hands met as if they were magnets, attracted together by an irresistible magnetic force.. Every touch was a poem written on the skin, and every look, a promise whispered in the silence of the night.. They walked together through narrow alleys, exploring unknown territories that only desire could map.. They lost themselves in labyrinths of passion, where secrets were shared in kisses and caresses.. The city became a stage for their intimate dance, where every corner hid a new sensory experience.. Under a starry sky, they found a more intimate corner, away from prying eyes.. There, amidst whispers and soft laughter, they wrote their own story in the language of skin and shared feelings.. That night became an unforgettable chapter in the book of their lives, where sensuality was woven into the complicity of two souls who met in the twilight, creating a unique poem that only they understood..

In the twilight of the night, our bodies intertwine, a dance of skin and sighs, a verse that only we pray.

Your lips, a poem in my mouth, every caress, a fiery stanza, we discover secrets in the dark, like verses never before written..

In the alchemy of our embraces, wishes and whispers mix, we are two lost lovers, in the eternal love poem.

"Sensuality, a river of desire that winds between two souls. On the skin, poetry written with the pen of the senses. Their bodies, canvases that tell forbidden stories in the gloom. The look, an intimate whisper, where ecstasy is intertwined with reflection, revealing in each encounter the sacred poetry of surrender."

In the interweaving of bodies, poetry awakens. Every caress, every fiery verse, every look, a chapter of shared mystery. In the play of the senses, we discover the art of love, where the skin is the parchment and the ecstasy, the pen that writes our erotic story..

In the palette of intimacy, they color their encounters with tones of desire..

Every look, a brushstroke of passion; every caress, a stroke of poetry on the skin.

So, on the canvas of the night, they write secret chapters, where the art of love is revealed in the deep connection of their senses..

Their bodies intertwine whispers, weaving poetry into each touch. The skin, a parchment inscribed with the account of their forbidden encounters. In silence, they discover that eroticism is an intimate journey, where desire is the ink that writes eternal verses into the story of their shared passions..

In the hills of Santorini, where the sun paints the sky with warm tones and the Aegean Sea sings its own song, a romance was born between Eleni, a passionate winemaker, and Nikos, a sailor with eyes that reflected the vastness of the ocean. Their story began among vineyards and cellars, where Eleni showed Nikos the art of creating wines that captured the essence of the island.. Together, they explored the island's secret corners, sharing laughter as the scent of the sea and vines intertwined in the air.. Every evening, they would dance in shadows and colors in Oia, where they would gather to witness the celestial spectacle.. On starry nights, they sailed in a sailboat under the Greek sky, the waves whispering secrets only lovers can understand.. On the black sand beach, Nikos proposed to Eleni to build her own shelter, a white house that would rise on the cliffs.. Together, they designed every corner, filling it with details that told their story.. The wedding was a celebration in which Greek music and the scent of flowers merged into a unique sensory experience.. His life became a symphony of adventures, from exploring ancient ruins to diving into the crystal clear waters of hidden coves.. With each trip, they discovered new layers of their relationship, strengthening the bonds that bound them.. In winter, when the island sank into silence, they found beauty in the calm.. In front of the fireplace, they shared dreams and built castles of future plans. They learned that love, like good wine, improves with time, maturing and enriching with each shared experience. Life took them through storms, but their love was the beacon that guided them through the turbulent waters.. On an anniversary night, they renewed their vows on the same beach where their story began, remembering that true love is a constant tide that never runs out.. So, on the island where the gods fell in love, Eleni and Nikos weaved their own love epic, an eternal narrative that will resonate on the waves and vineyards of Santorini, where every breeze carries with it the story of two souls sailing together into eternity..

Do you like my new hair color?

In the clock of time, our moments are intertwined, like two souls dancing, eternity embracing. Every look, a chapter in the book of passion, where love writes with the ink of devotion. In the symphony of our beats, the universe is silent, and love resonates like a melody that never fades. Shared moments, like stars in the night sky, paint an eternal canvas, our love, pure and deep.

♪ Dawn of a dream ♪

On the horizon the solemn sun awakens, painting with golden brushes the sky in its renown. The first rays caress the earth tenderly, like a divine whisper that heals everything. Sunrise unfolds its color palette, weaving dreams and hopes into multiple flowers. The world awakens on a canvas of pure magic, a visual poem that intoxicates with its beautiful tenderness.

In the blossoming garden of rubies, a flower stands out, its red hair dawn. Redhead, your hair is liquid fire, flames of passion that envelop hearts. On each strand, light shines, weaving love stories like dancing flames. Starry night witness your poetry lit, a burning canvas painting romance in every curl.

It was very hot that night at Tony's Bar.. I wasn't even thinking about fucking.. I only drink cold beer.. Tony put a pair for me and Mike the Indian, and Mike took the money.. I let him buy the first round.. Tony threw it in the register, bored, and looked around... There were five or six others looking at their beers.. Fools. So Tony sat down with us.. —¿What's up, Tony? I asked. —"It's a piece of shit", Tony said.. —There's nothing new. —Shit, said Tony.. —"Oh, shit", said Mike the Indian.. We drank the beers.. —¿What do you think of the moon? I asked Tony. —Shit, said Tony.. —"Yes, said Mike the Indian, what is a tick on Earth is a tick on the Moon, what else is there to do?". —They say there's probably no life on Mars.. —¿And what the fuck does it matter? "Tony asked. —Oh, shit, I said.—. Two more beers.. Tony brought them in, then went back to the box with his money.. He kept it.. Returned. —Shit, it's hot.. I wish I was deadlier than the old ones.. —¿Where do you think men go when they die, Tony? What the fuck does it matter? Don't you believe in the human spirit? That's a story! What do you think of Che, Joan of Arc, Billy the Kid, and all that? stories, stories. We drank our beers thinking about this.. —I said, "Well, I'm going to take a leak".. I went to the bathroom and there, as always, was Petey the Owl.. I took it out and started peeing.. —What a smaller cock you have. He told me.. ——When I pee and when I meditate yes. But I'm what you call a stretchy guy.. When the time comes, every millimeter from now becomes six.. —Man, that's pretty cool, if you're not kidding me.. Because I see at least two inches there.. —It's just the cocoon.. —I'll give you a dollar if you let me suck your dick.. —it's not much. —That's more of a cocoon.. I'm sure you've got nothing more than that.. —Fuck you, Petey.. —You'll be back when you've run out of beer money.. I went back to my seat.. —Two more beers. I asked.. Tony did the usual surgery.. He came back later.. —"Oh, it's hot, I'm going crazy", he said.. —The heat makes you realize exactly what your real self is. I explained to Tony.. —¡Cut it now! Are you calling me crazy? Most of us are.. But it remains a secret.. —Yeah, sure, assuming you're right about that shit, tell me, how many sane men are there on earth? Is there any? a few. —¿How many? Of all the millions that exist? - Yes, you are.. Yes. —Well, I'd say five or six.. —¿Five or six? Said Mike the Indian.—. ¡Man, don't fuck with me! How do you know I'm crazy? said Tony—. ¿How can we function if we're crazy? Well, since we're all crazy, there's only a few to control us, too few, so they let us walk around with our crazy.. Right now, that's all you can do.. I once believed that the sane could find somewhere to live in outer space while they destroyed us.. But now I know that even the crazy ones control space. —¿How do you know? Because they already planted the American flag on the moon.. —¿What if the Russians had planted a Russian flag on the moon? It would be the same I said. —¿So you're impartial? "Tony asked. —I'm impartial to all kinds of madness.. Silence. We're still drinking. Tony too; he started serving himself whiskey and water.. I could; I was the owner.. "Honey, it's hot out here", said Tony.. —Shit, yeah, said Mike the Indian.. Then Tony started talking.. —"crazy", he said. What if I told you that something really crazy is going on right now? Of course I said. —in, in, in the.. ¡I mean here, in my bar! - Yes, you did? - Yes, you are.. Something so crazy that sometimes it scares me.. ——Explain that to me, Tony. I said, always willing to listen to other people's stories.. Tony came closer.. —I know a guy who made a fucking machine.. Not that crap from the chick magazines.. Those things you see in the ads.. Hot water bottles with swappable beef pussy, all that shit.. This guy really did it.. He's a German scientist, we caught him, I mean our government.. Before the Russians could get to him.. Don't tell anyone about it.. —Sure man, don't worry about it.. —The following. The government tried to make him work in space.. There was nothing to do.. He's a very smart guy, but he's got nothing on his mind but that fucking machine.. At the same time, he considers himself a kind of artist, sometimes he says he's Michelangelo... They gave him a pension of $500 a month so he could stay alive long enough not to end up in a mental institution.. They'd watch him for a while, then they'd get bored or forget about him, but they'd keep sending him the checks, and every once in a while, once a month or so, an agent would come and talk to him for 10 or 20 minutes, send a report saying he was still crazy and smart.. So he'd go around with his big red trunk until finally, one night, he came here and started drinking.. He tells me he's just a tired old man, he needs a really quiet place to do his experiments.. And I hid him here.. A lot of crazy people come here, you know.. —I said yes.. —Then, friends, he started drinking more and more, and he ended up telling me.. I had made a mechanical woman who could give a man more pleasure than any real woman in all history... And no tampax, no shit, no arguing with each other.. —I've been looking for a woman like that all my life.. Tony started laughing.. —And who doesn't?. I thought he was crazy, of course, until one night after closing I went upstairs with him and he pulled the fucking machine out of the red trunk.. —¿What's up? It was like going to heaven before I died.. —Let me figure out the rest. I asked him.. —Imagine. —von Brashlitz and his FUCKING MACHINE are right now upstairs in this very house. —That's what Tony said.. —¿How much? 20 tickets for each session. —¿Twenty bucks for fucking a machine? That guy has outdone what made us, whatever it was.. You'll see. —Petey the Owl sucks my dick and gives me a dollar.. —Petey the Owl is not bad, but he's not a gods-over-all invention.. I gave him my twenties.. —I'm warning you, Tony, if this is a heat freak, you're gonna lose your best client.. —Like you said before, we're all crazy anyway.. You can come up.. —All right, I said.. —Said Mike the Indian.—. Here are my twenties.. —I warn you, I only take 50 percent.. The rest is for von Brashlitz.. Five hundred pension is not much with inflation and taxes, and von B. He drinks beer like a maniac.. —All right, I said.—. You're already 40.. ¿Where is that immortal fucking machine? Tony lifted up a piece of the counter and said, "Come here.. You have to go up the back stairs.. When you get there, call and say, "Tony sent us".». —¿at any door? The door 69. —I said, what else? "Get ready", said Tony, "get the balls ready".. We found the stairs.. Climbed. —Tony is capable of anything for a joke I said. Arrived. There it was: door 69. I called, "Tony sent us".. —¡Oh, come on, come on, you two! There was this old nut job with the look of a crappy, beer glass in hand, double glazed glasses.. Like in the old movies.. I had a visitor apparently, a young aunt, almost too, seemed fragile and strong at the same time.. She crossed her legs, all glowing: nylon knees, nylon thighs, and that little area where the long stockings end and that spark of flesh begins right there.. It was all ass and tits, nylon legs, smiling eyes of clear blue.. —Gentlemen, I have a question... My daughter Tanya... —¿What? What? =yes, I know, I'm so.. Old.. But just like there's the myth of the nigger who's always in a jam, there's the myth of the dirty old Germans who keep fucking.. You can believe whatever you want.. Anyway, this is my daughter Tanya... —"Hello, guys", she said smiling.. Then we all looked at the door and there was this sign:.. He's out of beer.. —Well.. I guess you guys are here for the best Dust Bowl ever... —¡Daddy, please! Tanya said—. ¿Why do you always have to be so rude? Tanya crossed her legs again, higher up this time, and I almost ran.. Then, the professor finished another beer, got up and walked to the door of the sign. He turned and smiled at us.. Then, very slowly, he opened the door.. He went in and out rolling that gossip that looked like a hospital bed on wheels.. The gossip was naked, a metal table. The teacher planted that damn thing in front of us and started humming a little song, probably German.. a mass of metal with that hole in the center. The professor had a can of oil in his hand, he stuck it in the hole and started pouring oil all over it.. I keep humming that stupid German song. And he kept pouring oil until finally he looked over his shoulder and said, "Nice, huh?"?». Then he went back to his job, to keep pumping oil in there.. Mike the Indian looked at me, tried to laugh, said, "Damn it... ¡They're messing with us again! I said, "Yeah, I'm like I haven't had a fuck in five years, but you'd have to be crazy to put your dick in that pile of junk".. Von Brashlitz let out a laugh. He went to the liquor cabinet.. He took out another fifth of beer, poured himself a nice drink and sat down in front of us.. —When we started to know in Germany that the war was lost, and the siege began to tighten, until the final battle of Berlin, we understood that the war had taken a new turn: the real war became then who grabbed the most German scientists. If Russia got most of the scientists or if America got them.. The ones who get the most out of it would be the first to the moon, the first to Mars... First in all things. Well, the exact result I don't know... I'm not sure if it's numerically or in terms of scientific brain power.. All I know is that the Americans grabbed me first, grabbed me, put me in a car, gave me a drink, put a gun to my head, made promises, talked and talked.. I signed everything... —All these historical considerations seem very good to me.—. But I'm not gonna stick my dick, my poor little dick, in that steel jar or whatever.. Hitler must have been really crazy to trust you.. ¡I wish the Russians had put the glove on him! I want my 20 bucks back! Von Brashlitz laughed at the thought.. —I'm not going to lie to you... It's just my usual prank.. I'm going to kill you! He put the jar back in the little room.. He closed the door.. —¡I'm going to kill you! He had another shot of schnapps.. Then he served himself more.. He liquidated it.. —Gentlemen, I am an artist and an inventor! My fucking machine is actually my daughter, Tanya... —¿More of your jokes, von? I asked. —¡It's not a joke! I'm not going to tell you. Put yourself on this gentleman's lap! Tanya let out a laugh, got up, came over and sat on my lap.. ¿A fucking machine? I couldn't be! His skin was skin, or looked like it, and his tongue when it entered my mouth when we kissed, it wasn't mechanical... Every move was different, and it responded to mine.. I jumped right in, ripped off her shirt, put my hand in her panties, she hadn't been this hot in years, then we got tangled up, somehow we ended up standing... And I went in standing up, pulling her out of her long blonde hair, pulling her head back, then coming down, pulling her buttocks apart and stroking her eyeball while I was poking her ass, and she ran off... I felt her shake, throb, and I ran too.. ¡I've never had a better powder! Tanya went to the bathroom, cleaned herself up and showered, and got dressed for Mike the Indian.. I guessed.. —The greatest invention of the human species.. I was absolutely right.. Tanya finally came out and sat on my lap.. —¡No, you can't! No, you can't! I'm going to go. Now it's the other one! That's the one you just fucked! She didn't seem to hear, and it was strange, even on a fucking machine, because I had never been a very good lover, really.. —¿Do you love me? He asked. —Yes. —I love you, and I'm very happy. And.. I'm not technically alive.. You know that, don't you? I love you, Tanya, that's all I know.. —¡I'm going to shit! The old man screamed.—. ¡This fucking machine! She went to the varnished box that had the word TANYA written on it.. There were little wires coming out, there were markers and needles that were shaking, and various indicators, lights that went off and on, gossip that ticked... B of. He was the craziest bastard I'd ever seen.. She started poking around the bookmarks, then she looked at Tanya: 25 YEARS! Almost a lifetime to build you! I had to hide you even from Hitler! And now.. ¡You're trying to become a simple, vulgar whore! I'm not 25", said Tanya.—. I'm twenty-four. —¿You see that? You see that? Like a normal, ordinary whore! He went back to his markers.. —You're wearing a different crimson. I told Tanya.. —¿You like it? Oh, yeah! He leaned over and kissed me.. B of. I was still with my markers.. I had a feeling he was going to win.. von Brashlitz turned to Mike the Indian: "Don't worry, trust me, it's just a small malfunction.. I'll fix it in a moment.. —I hope so, said Mike the Indian.—. I got up to thirty-five inches waiting and I paid twenty dollars. —I love you, Tanya said.—. I'm never fucking another man again.. If I can have you, I don't want anyone else.. —I'll forgive you Tanya, whatever you do. The professor was so fast.. I kept on with the wires but I couldn't get anything done.. —¡I'm going to go. Now it's time to fuck each other! I'm here... I'm getting tired already... I have to pour another shot of brandy... Get some sleep... Tanya.. —Oh, said Tanya, this fucking old man! You and your little drinks, and then you spend the night nibbling on my tits and I can't sleep! You can't even get a decent splice! You're disgusting! How? I said I'm not sure you're even capable of getting a decent spanking. You're gonna pay for this, Tanya! You are my creation, not I your creation. I kept digging through his magic markers.. I mean, in the machine.. He was out of his mind, but you could clearly see that the rage was giving him a clairvoyance that made him overcome. —It's just a moment, gentleman, he said, addressing Mike.. ¡I just need to adjust the electronic panels! - Just a minute! I'm going to go. That's it! Then he jumped up.. That guy they saved from the Russians.. He looked at Mike the Indian.. —¡It's all set! The machine is in order! Have fun, my gentleman! Then, he went to his bottle of liquor, poured himself another shot and sat down to watch. Tanya got up from my lap and walked over to Mike the Indian.. I saw Tanya and Mike the Indian hugging.. Tanya let her zipper down.. He pulled his dick out, man, dick was on the guy! I said thirty-five centimeters, but they looked at least fifty. Tanya then put her hands around Mike's dick.. He groaned with joy.. Then he tore it from the rope.. He threw it away.. I saw the gossip rolling down the carpet like a silly sausage, leaving sad bloodstains.. He went for the wall.. There it was like something with a head but no legs and nowhere to go... Which was pretty true.. Then there were the balls flying through the air.. a leaping, heavy vision. They just landed in the middle of the carpet and didn't know what to do but bleed.. So they bled.. von Brashlitz, the hero of the Russian-American invasion, looked roughly at what was left of Mike the Indian, my old blowjob buddy, red red over there on the ground, commanding his center.. B of. He got the fire, downstairs... Room 69 had done everything but that.. Then I asked her, "Tanya, there will be trouble here very soon.. ¿Why don't we dedicate the room number to our love? As you wish, my love! We did, just in time; and then those idiots came in.. One of those who knew then declared Mike the Indian dead. and as von B. It was sort of a product of the American government, and it was soon filled with people, various shitty officials of various kinds, firefighters, journalists, the prod, the inventor, the CIA, the FBI and various other forms of human garbage.. Tanya came and sat on my lap.. —Now they're gonna kill me.. Try not to get sad, please.. I didn't answer.. Then von Brashlitz started screaming, pointing at Tanya: "I assure you, gentlemen, she has no feelings! I managed to keep Hitler from getting her! I assure you, it's nothing but a machine! Everyone just stood there looking at him.. No one believed him.. She was nothing more or less than the most beautiful machine, the woman, so to speak, they had ever seen in their lives.. —¡Damn it to hell! You are a jackass! Every woman is a fucking machine, don't you see? They bet on the best horse! Love does not exist! It's a fairy-tale mirror like the Magi Kings! Yet they would not believe him.. —¡This is just a machine! Have no fear! Look at that! Von Brashlitz grabbed one of Tanya's arms and said,. He ripped it from the body.. And inside, inside the hole in the shoulder, you could see clearly, there was nothing but wires and tubes, things twisted and intertwined, plus some secondary substance that vaguely resembled blood.. And I saw Tanya standing there with those twisted wires hanging from her shoulder where her arm used to be.. She looked at me, "Please, do it for me!" Remember I asked you not to get sad. I saw them throw themselves at her, tear her apart and rape her and maim her.. I couldn't help it.. I put my head on my knees and I cried.. Mike the Indian never got his twenty dollars.. A few months passed. I didn't go back to the bar.. There was a trial, but the government cleared von B. of all guilt.. And to his machine. I moved to another city.. Far. And one day I was sitting in the barbershop and I grabbed a porn magazine.. There was an advert.:

“Out of the millions of women you see, one suddenly appears that impresses you. There's something about her shape, the way she's made, the particular dress she's wearing, something you can't overcome. ♪ I'm going to be a star ♪