Sometimes... Come on, how often exactly, Bert? Can you recall four, five, more such occasions? Or wold no human heart have survived two or three? Sometimes (I have nothing to say in reply to your question), while Lolita would be haphazardly preparing her homework, sucking a pencil, lolling sideways in an easy chair with more legs over its arm, I would shed all my pedagogic restraint, dismiss all our quarrels, forget all my masculine pride-and literally crawl on my knees to your chair, my Lolita! You would give me one look-a gray furry question mark of a look: "Oh no, not again" ( incredulity, exasperation); for you never deigned to believe that I could, without any specific designs, ever crave to bury my face in your plaid skirt, my darling! The fragility of those bare arms of yours-how I longed to enfold them, all your four limpid lovely limbs, a folded colt, and take your head between my unworthy hands, and pull the temple skin back on both sides and kiss your chinesed and-"Pulease leave me alone, will you" you would say, "for Christ's sake, leave me alone" And I would get up from the floor while you looked on, your face deliberately twitching in imitation of my tic nerveux. But never mind, I am only a brute, never mind, lets us go on with my miserable story.
I'm back.
This post has been edited by Irysa: Jan 3 2008, 04:07 PM
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[13:27:43] [Sabator] peter would be the worst batman ever though. "turn on the bat-signal" "right!" *turns on huge foglight, beams an image of striped pantsu into the sky*
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