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Words of love and passion.
Can be one without the other?
Maybe, but what his author, man in RUMOR,
presents us with this story is that the two should combine for an erotic story.
Playing with the conceptual lines separating (or unite!)
Religiosity of sensual passion and ecclesiastical prudence private sex,
takes us into a romantic and sexual encounters of faith in the beauty of the words -very
and aesthetics of beliefs bodies the (ideal) erotic passion.
It all started on 18 October 2014. At night, Cordoba thronged in front of the Patio de los Naranjos,
to see the output of an extraordinary procession Our Lady of Peace and Hope.
be The talks became murmurs, and these in bisbiseos that predated clicks and flashes.
so The gloom was opened in divine natural lighting of the candles, and walked the first few rows shhh when
I noticed their close presence behind me. Surreptitiously, I turned; intuitively I knew it was beautiful.
The Virgin came out, and bugles and drums began to mingle with the cheers and applause that they received.
and The Virgin is very pretty with a strong French accent said,
but I’m applauding a divinity concluded, and stepped forward to reach my position.
looked. He looked at me and smiled.
I’m an atheist he continued, but today I set my religion test.
thought there was no superior beings,
and if any, would be aesthetic;
beautiful inert figures, such as the impressive size that wobble continued, with academic pace and melody
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But maybe I was wrong; maybe all these years of study, deciphering ink blots on yellowed paper, have blinded me.
And that’s just what I can know why, today, my look is knowing you.
My defenses languished.
Years of training to protect my image of women unapproachable fell, layered, silky and metal armor.
Excuse me, do we know?
asked automatically, without realizing that my tone realized that I was dying because talking.
I’m almost certain that we do not know because that is precisely what I intend continued gently.
Anyway, my name is Saul.
Enchanté she whispered, extending his hand.
The invisible threads the spirit of a puppeteer raised my arm and rested my fingers on his hand.
That slight touch and belted opened a door that never shut: the image of her naked body mercilessly rending my sex.
Following the presentations, and other additives compliments,
we decided to leave the procession and pilgrimage to those places where memories spilling onto the foam.
The minutes fell on the beers, written words are stored in our ears and smiles … smiles stripped us of the fears and prejudices.
Have never done this I said, but I want you to come home with me.
You fancy? I asked electrified in embarrassment and nerves.
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Well sûr, of course Mary, I’m yours from the moment I imagined, behind you, in the Patio de los
Naranjos. And from that moment,
just want to idolize every centimeter of your skin, and abocarla the desire to be revered …
left cajole, until a brief silence timidly raised their wings. And I kissed him, cutting rennet. And, like angels,
we flew to the shelter of my sheets, where I found the will to be possessed. And he made me his, keeping his word.
Wild, he undressed me,
and turned their sentences in language,