Baby's Skin Is Mottled

a juggler (Idea of \u200b\u200bWomen )

It was circling the pins in the air, with a lightness and grace worthy of a real circus acrobat.
Every night, entertain people without the traffic lights.
Lea, she stopped with the engine idling, in the lane waiting for the green shoot, the boy watched, fascinated.
Who knows what was there, I wonder if he was Italian ...
Despite the cold and probably aching arms, the boy had that smile on his face.
When approached to ask for some money, Lea opened the window and asked if, instead, would prefer a hot meal, he offered her.
's smile became a real boy. Bright.
Get in the car and together they stopped at a restaurant not far away.
"I am Ivan, and I want to go to America," presented itself.
"Lea. I see you almost every night here at the traffic lights ..."
"I want to go to America and I need the money."
"But so, perhaps between what you get there in America ... no?" she smiled.
"Never mind"
The event took place quiet.
did not speak much, she blinked, trying not realizing the fact. He ate in silence.
Her hair was blond, curly hair, that fell on the forehead and at least one pair of earrings, lip.
clear skin contrasted with the strong southern accent.
"Where are you from?" He asked.
"Ragusa"
"But you're blond!" She said, smiling.
"My mother was Venetian My father is here. I also have freckles, you see? "She smiled, showing a couple of broken teeth.
In a sense, that was not the usual, that the boy was intrigued.
She liked his courage.
The liked his choice of life, although she probably would never have followed.
Even his bright green eyes and the like.
And maybe he wanted to taste the lips, feel the cold metal of those circles contact with his, lips.
Maybe he wanted to count the freckles ... one by one: to discover how far it was covered.
He wanted to peek yet the expression on his face, even while it was in the throes of an orgasm.
He wanted to leave something more, before letting him go ... itself.
He was watching.
followed on her face in the form of his thoughts.
"Now I ask you to come to me," he thought.
Although it was not really sure you want to ...
Instead, the boy said, "Leave me here, I walk ... I'm not used to eating so much!"
She smiled, nodded his head and without realizing it, with two fingers stroked his face, touched those freckles and smiled again.

Hello Ivan, good luck.

(Idea Women's reads here especially )