IbbyeWest

WELCOME TO MY PERSONAL SPACE

Hello darling, here you will be able to know another side of Ibby, an Ibby not so sexy, as she usually is on broadcast but that you are going to love, you will know my daily routine, some of my frequent activities, my crazy thoughts, my favorite things like places, meals, among many others that may interest you and maybe we have things in common, that would be very fun! I hope you like it! See you soon! Kisses!

The first thing you should know about me is that I am a university student, for now I have a tattoo (I want to have many more), my birthday is in the month of August and I am Colombian! The web cam has been one of the best decisions I have made in my short existence, since I have learned many things, among them to know myself and to have a great love for my wonderful body, to exploit my most sensual side (which I didn't know before), to have new ideas and thoughts about this new world that was unknown to me, now I am open-minded, willing to try new things! I really like being here, since I have learned about different cultures and many personalities of many people!

You have to know that I like the color pink, many things I have are this color because I really love it, my toy and my vibrator with which I have fun are a clear example but it is not time yet, you will see them very soon! Sometimes I like to wear pink clothes, they make me feel like a tender but naughty and playful girl at the same time.

Dressing in red and wearing good heels to complement it, I love it, of course you can't miss a relaxed and sensual atmosphere that improves the experience! This color makes me feel sexy and desired, it brings out my most daring and horny side, it also makes me explore new things in bed, one thing you should know about me is that I like older men since I like to learn a lot from them I like to be submissive but other times I like to be in control and see men horny for me, but young men like me are not left behind since with them I have achieved several orgasms! If you are a gentleman and subtle man but at the same time you like strength and are very horny in bed like me, you will have me with you for a long time!

Some days I like to try different styles on my hair, as was the case this day, I love this type of braids since it is something completely out of the ordinary and the best of all is that I could try any style for my long hair, many can be done. things, even in hornier situations my hair is spectacular! Imagine the things you could do with it if you had me on a bed in different positions! An extra fact about me, I really like sweets, desserts, everything related to food that is sweet, if you want to have a small gift with me, an invitation to a restaurant and eat desserts, it is the best option!

When I'm with a man I like to be in control but that's not always the case. Something that I really love is following orders about his favorite things, how we can reach the highest point of excitement and both of us cum at the same time. , it's something fucking wonderful! Watching a man on his horniest side makes me very wet and at the same time he is touching my soft skin and giving a good spanking, it is enough to achieve a great orgasm, if you know what I'm talking about, I know we can have fun very much together!

I envy the hands that caress your body, because they can go up for your shoulders and neck with divine caresses and get tangled in your hair... Because they can touch the most tender places, because they can feel the delight in your breasts... Because they can go down for your perfect abdomen and get to the corner truly exquisite and give you the glory of infinite pleasure... Because I know in advance how far away you are, _I can not avoid...  ¡Envy those hands!

With ten cannons per side, wind in full sail, it does not cut the sea, but flies a brigantine sailing ship; pirate ship that they call, because of its bravery, the Feared, in every known sea from one end to the other. The moon in the sea shimmers, the wind moans on the canvas and lifts waves of silver and blue in soft movement; and the pirate captain goes, singing happily in the stern, Asia on one side, Europe on the other, and there in front of him Istanbul; “Sail my sail, without fear, that neither enemy ship, nor storm, nor bonanza, your course is enough to twist, nor to hold your courage.

You provoke me intensely and long..., Your extensive and effortless kiss provokes me, your murderous and stubborn tongue devouring the insides of my mouth... Your elusive and framed smile provokes me with your perfect and outlined teeth that like daggers they feverishly cut my burning dream. Your thick and beautiful lips provoke me when you tickle my belly, and your fingers..., wild scratching and leaving your memories on my back. Your erect, trembling volcanoes provoke me, givers of sugared honey swollen on the halo of a tomorrow. I am not provoked by the desperate youth of a teenager in the full development of it, it provokes me yes..., the exquisite maturity of a beautiful woman and your experience silencing my word... Your moans and your lost hands provoke me tightening my moans, if you knew how much they provoke me... My love, all of you, all of me, all of you provoke me, since your dress falls, sliding sensually before my gaze absorbed.

You enjoy when I chase you and you enjoy letting yourself be caught while you show me the entrance to heaven without letting me in; I enjoy enormities chasing you, trapping you, desiring you, surrounding you; I taste glory every time I manage to break down your resistance And, when I think I'm about to make you completely mine, You let me feel you, touch you, enjoy you with all my senses; you make me dream and then you escape again... to start again... This sadomasochistic game is endless, wonderful and fascinating like the delicacy of your voice, like the happiness that your laughter causes me, like the sweetness of your saliva; Machiavellian and sinful like the pleasure of masturbation; an intimate and perverse game that I don't want to stop playing, that gives life to my life and does not allow me to determine Which of the two is the sadist and who is the masochist... Or, are we both, both?

The dark swallows will return to your balcony to hang their nests, and again with their wings to their windows playing they will call. But those whose flight restrained your beauty and my joy from contemplating, those who learned our names... those... will not return! The bushy honeysuckles of your garden will return to climbing the walls, and again in the afternoon their flowers will open even more beautiful. But those, curdled with dew whose drops we watched tremble and fall like tears of the day... those... will not return!

Fresh, lush, pure and fragrant, the gala and adornment of the flowering pensil, gallantly placed on the upright bouquet, fragrance spreads the nascent rose. But if the burning sun, the annoying light, vibrates from the lit burning cannon, the sweet aroma and the lost color, its leaves carry the hasty aura. Thus my vein shone for a moment on the wings of love, and I pretended to be a beautiful cloud of glory and joy. But alas! that good turned into bitterness, and, stripped by the air, rises the sweet flower of my hope.

I love your nakedness because naked you drink me with your pores, how does water make when I immerse myself within its walls. Your nakedness breaks down the limits with its heat, It opens all the doors for me to guess you, He takes me by the hand like a lost child that in you he would leave his age and his questions still. Your sweet and salty skin that I breathe and that I sip It becomes my universe, the creed that nourishes itself; the aromatic lamp that I lift while blind when next to the shadows desires bark at me. When you undress me with your eyes closed you fit in a neighboring cup of my tongue, You fit in my hands like necessary bread, You fit under my body more fully than its shadow. The day you die I will bury you naked so that your distribution on earth may be clean, to be able to kiss your skin on the roads, braid your scattered hair in each river. The day you die I will bury you naked, like when you were born again between my legs.

They left you alone when we are drunk Suddenly, she touched our skin because of a simple dance. You looked me straight in the eyes calculating the jump, I pushed you away the first time for fear of losing control Instantly, drowned in desire, I understood my mistake. You vilely put me to the test and I ended up at your feet. Your delicious lips were the beginning of everything you did not measure the risk of continuing with your actions you took me back, to a dark secluded corner It was dangerous to stay alone and excited, so many springs of a false past did not matter I beg you, in the of the night twilight that you would think carefully before giving yourself over to sin. We realized too late that none of this could be That night I discerned your feelings at dawn the immense and repressed longing to feel my skin the agonizing euphoria of rejoicing in great pleasure. How to fan the flame of a forbidden desire? How to attach myself to a sudden and new want? daringly that night I made you feel like a woman, that orgasm you experienced for the first time.

He threw away this trash I envy him not to this exercise to this disconsolate masturbation I don't give a damn about beauty with his chancre neither perversion nor conversion are of interest not to magic. Yes, always to the always disappointing evidence of what is and that the words scratch, and that I also poetize him This is a vice that only escapes like him contemptuously and he was able, in reality, to block himself in his neurosis lose your tongue to the plague and that no be a yes to the lust of the plague Through all the roads I reach the impenetrable what's the point poetry guilty perhaps of what exists how much word in each thing what excess of rhetoric even in the last ant but ultimately he threw away this garbage the fierce hat of him in the forest.

A woman's body is a work of art. Elegant and elegant, it is a sight to behold. From the swell of her breasts to the curve of her hips. There is nothing more beautiful than a woman's body. So why do we try to hide it? Why are we ashamed of our own skin? We should be celebrating our bodies. Instead of hiding them...

In recent days I have been obsessed with everything related to poetry, it seems so romantic at the same time so sensual, it makes my skin crawl imagining what each verse and word says, definitely from now on I consider myself a fan of poetry. poetry!

Man has only sought one thing at all times, and he has done it everywhere, on the peaks and in the depths of the world. Under different names – in vain – he always hid, and always, even though he believed she was close to him, he got out of hand. Long ago there was a man who, in kind childhood myths, revealed to his children the keys and the path to a hidden castle. Few managed to know the simple key to the enigma, but those few then became masters of destiny. He reasoned for a long time – the error sharpened our ingenuity – and the myth stopped hiding the truth from us.

Oh, Solitude! If I must live with you, let it not be in the messy suffering of murky and gloomy dwellings, let us climb the steep staircase together; nature observatory, contemplating its delicacy of the valley, its flowery slopes, its flowing crystalline river; Allow him to watch, sleepy, under the roof of green branches, where the deer pass like streams, stirring the bees in their bells. But, though with pleasure I imagine these sweet scenes with you, The soft conversation of a mind, whose words are innocent images, is the pleasure of my soul; and without a doubt it must be the greatest joy of humanity, to dream that your race can suffer for two spirits that together decide to flee...

She stands in front of me A vision of beauty Her body is perfection. I can't help but admire her She has curves in all the right places. And her skin is so soft I just want to touch her And feel the curves of her against me She's everything I've ever wanted and I can't have it But just by looking at her It's enough to make my heart race She is the embodiment of femininity. And I can't help but adore her She's everything I've ever wanted and I can't have it But just by looking at her It's enough to make my heart race...!

If in the middle of a gloomy night when everything sleeps and is silent, and she enjoys a peaceful sleep, with yourself in battle you did not burst into tears with childish spite; If mad or sleepwalking you have not called her a thousand times, perhaps frantically mixing blasphemies with prayers, also with death, wretch, invoking a thousand times; If you have not felt a beneficial gaze descend into your bosom, like a sudden lamp that splits the shadows and seeing makes us a beatific region of serene light; Or perhaps the icy frown suffering from the one you adore, you did not faint lifeless, mysteries of love you ignore; nor have you tasted her ecstasy, nor have you carried her cross.

Once a dream wove a shadow over my bed that an angel protected: it was an ant that had gotten lost in the grass where I thought it was. Confused, perplexed and desperate, dark, surrounded by darkness, exhausted, I stumbled among the extended tangle, all disconsolate, and I heard him say: “Oh, my children! Do they cry? Will they hear their father sigh? Are they hanging around looking for me? Do they come back and sob for me?” Compassionate, I shed a tear; but nearby I saw a firefly, which responded: “What human moan summons the guardian of the night? It is up to me to illuminate the grove while the beetle makes its rounds: the buzzing of the beetle now follows; little wanderer, come home soon.

Oh! since the day when, for the first time, eternal love my lip has sworn to you, and sorrows have torn my life apart, sorrows that you cannot bear; Since then the sad thought of your fallacious oblivion in my agony: oblivion of a love all in harmony, fugitive in its stiff heart. And yet, heavenly consolation comes to flood my burdened spirit, today that your sweet voice has awakened memories, alas! of a time that passed. Although your heart of ice never trembles in my pesence, it is a pleasure for me to remember that you have never been able to forget our first love. And if you intend with tenacious determination to continue your path indifferently... Obey the voice of your destiny, you can hate me; forget me, no.

Although the radiance that was once so brilliant today is forever hidden from my eyes. Although my eyes can no longer see that pure sparkle that dazzled me in my youth. Although nothing can return the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flowers, we should not grieve because beauty always subsists in memory... In that first sympathy that having been once, will be forever in the comforters thoughts that sprang from human suffering, and in the faith that sees through death.

When two souls finally meet, who for so long have searched for each other among the crowd, when they realize that they are couples, that they understand and correspond, in a word, that they are similar, then a passionate and eternal union arises. pure as themselves, a union that begins on earth and lasts in heaven. That union is love, authentic love, as in truth very few men can conceive, love that is a religion, that deifies the loved one whose life emanates from fervor and passion and for whom the sacrifices, the greater the joys. sweets.

The fountains mix with the river, and the rivers with the ocean; The winds of heaven mix forever, with a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is unique, all things by divine law complete each other: Why shouldn't I do it with you? Look, the mountains kiss the high sky, and the waves caress the coast; No flower would be beautiful if it disdains its brothers: and the light of the sun loves the earth, and the reflections of the moon kiss the seas: What is the use of all this love, if you do not kiss me?

Let me spread apples in your sex mango nectars strawberry meat; Your body is all the fruts. I hug you and the tangerines run; I kiss you and all the gs drop the hidden wine of his heart over my mouth. My tongue feels in your arms the sweet juice of oranges and in your legs the promegranate hides its inciting seeds. Let me harvest the fruits of water that sweat in your pores: My man of lemons and peaches, give me fountains of peaches and bananas to drink bunches of cherries. Your body is paradise lost of which no God ever...

These fields sown with infertile ash and covered with inveterate lava that echoes with the pilgrim's passage, where the serpent nests and sunbathes and curls up, and where the rabbit returns to its dark burrow, were cultured and happy cities and blonde harvest; They were echoes of the lowing of flocks, palaces and gardens, the leisure of the rich, a pleasant refuge, and famous cities that, blasting through their mouths with igneous torrents, the lofty mountain and its people oppressed.

Whoever you are, listen to me: if with avid glances you have never followed the footsteps in the light of the vesper, the soft and rhythmic walk of a celestial vision; Or perhaps a candid veil, like a splendid meteor, that passes, and suddenly hides in funereal shadows, leaving a trace of purest light in the heart; If only because the poet revealed it to you in images, you know the intimate joy, the secret happiness, of which the sole arbiter of another loving being stands; Of which he does not see more nocturnal lamps, nor other clear suns, nor does he carry in the troubled sea more light from stars or lighthouses than that which the eyes of a woman magically pour.

When I think that you run away, black shadow that amazes me, at the foot of my heads, you turn to mock me. If I imagine that you are gone, in the same sun you look out, and you are the star that shines, and you are the wind that blows. If they sing, you are the one who sings, if they cry, you are the one who cries, and you are the murmur of the river and you are the night and the dawn. You are in everything and you are everything, for me you dwell in myself, you will never abandon me, shadow that always amazes me.

My heart aches and a drowsy torpor afflicts my senses, as if I had drunk hemlock or swallowed some strong narcotic right now, and were sinking into Lethe: not because I am envious of your happy fate, but because of excessive happiness in your fortune, You who, winged Dryad of the trees, in some melodious tangle of the green beech trees and the countless shadows, sing with full voice to the summer. Oh! Who would give me a sip of wine, long refreshed in the deep earth, tasting of Flora and the green fields, of dance and Provencal song and of sunny joy! 

With how much enthusiasm I put on my red dress fine and elegant and I stood up in my black heels and I dressed my skin with the perfume you like and I passed my silk gloves over my hands. I thought all the time that I would see you again but it was not like that; you left your footprints when you left, your black tie and your leather gloves, and the aroma of your skin, throughout the apartment, And how, yes no! The entire bedroom had the aroma of your perfume. I turned around and left the way I came. but a disturbing temptation gave me and I waited for you to return, But it wasn't like that... to be continue

I saw my wrist watch, it was midnight, I closed the apartment door and left. I didn't go looking for you, let it be clear to you!! I left with my fine elegance, with my silk gloves and my expensive fragrance,… To dance and laugh, I think about you... and of life and even of me, What a fool I was, loving you so much! until I lost you... I hope to find someone who sees my beauty not only exterior, but interior, because you know how to love truly and with all your soul. and I will forgive infidelity, because I truly love. That was an ordinary night and I wanted to be with you and I walked following steps and you were not there, and without your skin on my skin, many nights I looked for you, without kissing your lips, so many other times that I longed for have your lips on mine and kiss you passionately. Knowing you about me and thinking about me was a utopia.

My lonely soul weeps in silence, except when my heart is united to yours in a heavenly alliance of mutual sighing and mutual love. It is the flame of my soul like a dawn, shining in the sepulchral precinct: almost extinct, invisible, but eternal... not even death can sully it. Remember me!... Do not pass near my grave, no, without giving me your prayer; For my soul there will be no greater torture than knowing that you have forgotten my pain. Hear my last voice. It is not a crime pray for those who were. I never asked you for anything: when I expire I demand that you shed your tears on my grave...

You, blonde angel of the night, now, while the sun rests on the mountains, light your bright torch of love! Put on the radiant crown and smile at our night bed! Smile at our loves and, while you draw the blue curtains of the sky, sow your silver dew on all the flowers that close their sweet eyes to the opportune dream. May your western wind sleep in the lake. Say silence with the brilliance of your eyes and wash away the dust with silver. Quickly, very quickly, you withdraw; And then the wolf and the lion barks, furious, everywhere, breathing fire from their eyes in the dark jungle. The wool of our sheepfolds is covered with your sacred dew; protect them with your favor.

I'm behind bars in a damp cell. Raised in captivity, a young eagle, my sad companion, flapping its wings, next to the window its stinging bite. He picks it, throws it, looks at the window, as if he thought the same as me. His eyes call me and his shouting, and he wants to say: Let's take flight! You and I are free as the wind, sister! Let's flee, it's time, when the mountain whitens between clouds and the sea shines blue, where only the wind walks. ..me too!

From the dark side of your skin you enlighten me let me be the wolf —shadow of thirst and dog and hunger— that enters the night of your body with wet steps, hesitant, through your uncertain forest —your smell of the sea guides me towards your waves— to touch inside the crescent moon of your smile let me know —with tongue even— the darkness deeper, the quietest, and invoke with movements repeated, rituals such as howling, full moon of your body, the one that takes me to you as if it were me, in your hands, water that you turn into a tide illuminated...

When at night the tulle wings of sleep envelop you and your outstretched eyelashes resemble ebony arches, to listen to the beats of your restless heart and reclining your sleeping head on my chest, tell me, my soul, how much I possess, the light, the air and the thought! When your tongue falls silent and your breath quickens, and your cheeks light up and you squint your black eyes, to see the burning spark that springs from the volcano of desires shining between her eyelashes with moist fire, give, my soul, for how much I hope, faith, spirit, earth, heaven.

Inhabit me, penetrate me. Let your blood be one with my blood. Your mouth between my mouth. Your heart enlarges mine to explode… Tear me apart. Whole fall in my gut. Let your hands walk in my hands. Your feet walk on my feet, your feet. Burn me, burn me. Fill me with your sweetness. Let your saliva bathe my palate. You are in me as the wood is in the stick. I can't do it like this anymore, with this thirst burning me With this thirst burning me. The loneliness, their ravens, their dogs, their pieces.

Here, on the arid slope of the formidable mountain, desolate Vesuvius, for whom neither tree nor any flower brightens your solitary grass, around you you scatter fragrant broom content in the deserts. I saw you before adorn with your bushes the countryside that surrounds the town that once was the mistress of the world, and of the lost empire they seem with their grave and sad appearance to offer faith and memory to the passenger. I return today to see you on this ground, lover of deserted places of sadness, of afflicted fortune always a friend.

Two bodies facing each other sometimes there are two waves and the night is ocean. Two bodies facing each other sometimes they are two stones and the desert night. Two bodies facing each other sometimes they are roots in the night linked. Two bodies facing each other sometimes they are knives and the lightning night. Two bodies facing each other they are two stars that fall in an empty sky...

I think about your sex. Simplified the heart, I think of your sex, before the mature daughter of the day. I feel the button of happiness, it is in season. And an old feeling dies degenerated into brain. I think of your sex, most prolific groove and harmonious than the belly of the shadow, although death conceives and stops of God himself. Oh Consciousness, I think, yes, of the free brute that he enjoys where he wants, where he can. Oh honey scandal of the twilights. Oh silent roar...

Bright star, if I were constant like you, not in solitary splendor hanging from the height of the night and watching, with eternal open eyelids, as if of a patient nature, an insomniac hermit, the moving waters in their religious task, of pure ablution around land of human shores, or of contemplation of mountains and moors. No, still still constant, still immovable, lying on the ripe heart of my beautiful love, to feel forever its soft swelling and falling, awake forever in a sweet restlessness. Silent, silent to listen to his tender breathing, and thus live forever or else, fade into death.

Your pupil is blue and when you laugh its soft clarity reminds me of the tremulous brilliance of the morning that is reflected in the sea. Your pupil is blue and when you cry the transparent tears in it appear to me as dew drops on a violet. Your pupil is blue and if in its background an idea radiates like a point of light, it seems to me like a lost star in the afternoon sky.

Once I had a nail stuck in my heart, and I no longer remember if it was that nail of gold, iron or love. I only know that it hurt me so deeply, that it tormented me so much, that I cried day and night without ceasing as Magdalene cried in the Passion. “Lord, you can do everything,” I asked God once, “give me the courage to remove the nail from such a condition with one blow.” And God gave me, tear it out. But... who would have thought?... Afterwards I no longer felt torment nor did I know what pain was; I only knew that I don't know what I was missing where the nail was missing, and maybe... maybe I had loneliness from that pain... Good God! This mortal mud that surrounds the spirit, who will understand it, Lord!...

Why, little butterfly, flying from leaf to leaf, already making a show of being fickle and crazy? Why, I thought to myself, don't you imitate the bee that industriously gathers the juice of flowers constantly in a joy? He warns that he does not wander from the hall to the rose, that one among thousands seeks and a fragrant one alone. And when she already chooses it until she squeezes it all out, she never voluntarily passes it on to another without enjoying it.

Like an apple that falls from the tree when in the late autumn ripeness only knocks it down, the sweet chambers of an anthill dug in grinding earth with great labor, the works, the riches that the assiduous troops had collected with great fatigue, in the summer time, bruises, breaks and covers; thus collapsing from the top of the tenant womb, thrown into the deep sky, of ashes, pumice and rocks, night and ruin, full of boiling streams; or already on the slope, furious among the grass, of liquidated masses and of burning sand and metals descending with an immense blow...

Everyone asks me to jump, to tone up and to play football, Let him run, swim and fly. Very good. Everyone advises me to rest, everyone assigns me doctors, looking at me a certain way. What's happening? Everyone advises me to travel, let him enter and leave, let him not travel, that I die and that I do not die. It doesn't matter. Everyone sees the difficulties of my viscera surprised for radio-terrible portraits. I disagree. Everyone hates my poetry with invincible forks looking, without a doubt, for a fly, I'm afraid.

Fear with the face of a child feels like a child on the dark roads, sheds many tears when you believe you are lost anguish surpasses the limit in the face of imminent danger, he shudders when he thinks in the irreverent death as a hostage to your fears he is terrified all the time, with tenacity he assumes control becomes his own ally of his.