Be welcome! Please ask that you put aside your self-centeredness and your need for external validation. Understand that this is not a democracy, here is a monarchy where the Queen is me!

In my prayer, you were the center, my favorite predicate. Where we were more than pronouns, I, you and we. I barely realized that love could be just an object, direct, clear and straightforward. I, in the singular, dreaming in the plural, became a hidden subject... The agreement was missing, and I was not nominal. I was judged, conjugated incorrectly, I lost myself in time, I became past, more than imperfect, without the verbs I needed. And in the future of the past, there was an indicative, a dilemma that did not seem simple, perhaps compound. And when facing that chaos that cannot be explained, in the last homework, the verb to love decided to teach me the art of forgetting.

The silence of unspoken words is louder than a bomb. To be honest, I've never heard the sound of a bomb, but I've been silenced by many choked words. I know the noise this causes, even if internally. There was a time when I thought everything deserved to be said. Afterwards, I understood that I needed to choose my battles, as every speech precedes a probable answer, and of course, we are not always willing to listen to the answers. Sometimes we choose silence because we need to, even if the desire is to vomit a sequence of words, opinions, feelings and even unspeakable things. Other times, it is silence that chooses us, even though we know that an infinite number of thoughts, opinions, feelings and even unspeakable things are between the lines, pointed right in our direction. There is silence that welcomes, there is silence that is deafening and my favorite is the silence that in itself makes more noise than anything described, because in the end this type of silence does more damage than other people's screams and the desperation for me to express some emotion.

Hi. I would like to thank everyone who donated gifts to help RS. It is a very delicate and sad moment for the nation! I'm very happy to know that in the face of all this, there are still good-hearted people running out of time to help in some way. We bought a good amount of food, scarves, food and water... For those who couldn't help, know that praying helps too! Thank you from the bottom of my heart, you guys were amazing!!

Dear friends ❤️ We are aware that Rio Grande do Sul is going through a lot of difficulties at the moment! I am lucky to be accompanied by many kind people who give me many gifts every day.. With all this tragedy I have reflected on the needs of those who are facing so many challenges.. With this in mind, I would like to propose that, if you wish, any gift you plans to offer will be converted into contributions to purchase supplies for those in need. Donations will go directly to help ensure families and animals have access to essential foods/feed. I know that together we can make a significant difference in the lives of many people facing this war. Thank you in advance for your generosity and support of this cause. More than ever, it is a time to come together and offer help to those who need it most. Your participation will make this gesture even more meaningful and impactful. With all my affection and gratitude, Aya.

DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF FREE? Have you ever stopped to think about what happens when books have a burst of freedom? It's like a literary carnival! The classics join the new bestsellers and form a crazy mix of characters. Imagine Don Quixote hanging out with Harry Potter, while Sherlock Holmes tries to solve the mysteries of Alice in Wonderland. It does not stop there! The characters from the books also join the party. Captain Hook finally frees himself from Peter Pan's bonds and decides to sail his own pirate ship. Cinderella drops her glass slipper and decides to go on a road trip around the enchanted world. And Spider-Man... well, he's still doing what he's always done, only now without Marvel's webs. Can I have a life without a life mapped out? Can I be whoever I want without fear? Why does the desire to do and be go wrong? I live as I want to do? Maybe freedom is the fact of not fearing, not being afraid of the unknown, because comfort is in the known... Maybe it's going without a script and being your own character in a story without people and their "what ifs"... Or even wander with the certainty that freedom is more beautiful when seen from Locke's perspective and not from Kant's more metaphysical perspective or Rousseau's extravagant way.

Dear Man, how lovely it is to realize that etiquette and courtesy are nothing more than relics of a distant past. After all, why go to the trouble of ASKING for permission to share your audio when you can simply impose your sonic presence? This behavior is as pleasant as diving in the Arctic! Please do not feel embarrassed if you have done or are in the habit of doing such a feat. It is a privilege to serve as an involuntary audience for your vocal performance.

HOLY HERESY Maria das Graças is her name, the third of five sisters, all named after saints. Born into a family shaped by Catholic terms and dogmas, mother Tereza, carousing to a fault, promised her daughter to the church as soon as the girl was born. Well, and if it was for the girl “Being of God”, He decided to do something special. Owner of large, blue eyes, voluminous, pink and perfectly shaped lips, golden hair with wide curls that brushed her slim waist. At 19, her body must have been sculpted in the mold of Aphrodite. How could that set of thighs, belly, breasts and ass be so perfect? The curves were delicate where they needed to be and generous where they wanted to appear. The meat was soft to the touch, but hard, stiff, when squeezed, slapped. Gracinha was an invitation to temptation, a toast to lust and a one-way surrender to mortal sin. Immoral. She was forced by her mother to attend church since she was little. She currently worked as a secretary in the sacristy during the week and on the weekends she was minister of masses, participating in six or eight masses in a single weekend. “What Sacrilege!” . And even with her entire virtuous and controlling family, Gracinha really liked to GIVE, to follow the commandment: “Love your neighbor”, the next, the next and the next... She loved the Church's fairs, when she could do much more than 'volunteer work' for the boys from that little town in the interior of Minas. Father Giusepe arrived at the parish, of Italian origin, with a heavy accent, recently ordained. He was around 30 years old, dark, slender, with large hands, curly black hair like the beard that shaped his face and surrounded his full mouth. Ahhh Father Giusepe! As soon as she laid eyes on that “Sent from the Lord” she was absolutely certain that “God Exists.” Gracinha fixed more than an idea in her head, she set a goal, an objective, she made a promise: she needed to find out what was underneath that cassock. “And he swore on the Bible” that he would make Father Giusepe know that Adam and Eve were right in eating more than just an apple. But yes, each other.

It had been a week since the priest had arrived, he avoided looking her in the eyes. He avoided looking at her. She knew she needed to provide that man with much more than just a simple fuck. I would need help. That day before leaving home, she called a friend, Rita de Cássia (does everyone in this city have the name of a saint???) who also liked “Doing Good Without Looking at Whom” and asked her to meet her at the church. She left the house in her usual gray skirt below her knees and white button-down shirt. She had a bun in her hair and no makeup. But underneath that boring outfit, Gracinha added a little more grace. She wore a black garter belt, 7/8 stockings, tiny thong panties, and a corset that left her body promised to chastity, in a way that if “Even God Doubts” and “The Way the Devil Likes”, what remains for us mortal relis? Arriving at the church, she let her hair down, put on pink lipstick, folded the waistband of her skirt and opened two buttons on her shirt, leaving the black lace of her corset and her striking bosom exposed. The priest again didn't look her in the eye, because he looked straight at her cleavage. "So be it!" The priest left the sacristy so quickly that he seemed to have seen the personification of Lucifer sitting at that table and not the girl Maria das Graças. Grace smiled. It was time. I knew that he had gone to the confessional and was at that moment doing some penance for having succumbed to the weaknesses of the flesh by having enjoyed that luxurious cleavage for a fraction of a second. Gracinha arrived at the confessional, interrupted the priest who was praying and asking the Lord for forgiveness and said: - Father, I would like to confess before mass, is it possible? - Yes, of course, I was just in my daily prayers. She could cum with that accent alone. He thought. - Sorry, but it seemed like you were asking for forgiveness for having done something serious, having committed some mortal sin. - No no! I was really just praying like I always do. - Priests cannot lie, so why doesn't the Lord speak the truth? What could he have done so seriously to ask for forgiveness so fervently? - My daughter, priests MUST not lie, but we are human beings, in a world surrounded by temptations that test us at every moment. - And you were tempted, Father???

Two more buttons opened... - My daughter, you came to confess, right? - Yes Father, I came to MAKE a confession... And Gracinha began to tell the Father in a provocative tone all her experiences, she said that she was no longer chaste, she told in detail some of the many fucks she had with her brothers behind the Church . And even at the altar with the empty temple. The confessional allowed the priest to see the silhouette of that woman, he noticed that with each confession she opened a button on her blouse. He was sweating profusely, trying to concentrate on his confessions and on the prayers he said in silence. I tried. Tempted. Excited. Underdog! He had to unbutton his linen pants before they burst. And the expression 'beloved tent' would feel diminished if it witnessed that 'awning', that 'pitched tent' that formed between the priest's legs covered by the white cassock. He thought: “Lord, take this cup away from me.” If not, I'll drink it all. Then he condemned himself for the thought. Too late. Now you're going to keep quiet and do what I say, otherwise I'm going to have to gag your mouth too, which would be a shame not to hear you call me hot with that accent. And you will call me whatever I tell you to call me. As she spoke, she rolled, rubbed, and rubbed her pussy against his huge cock, even over her cassock. With great skill he got down from the priest's lap, took off his shoes, his pants, his cassock and his shirt and left him in the dust. With every sign of his regret, she tortured him. She put her breasts out of the corset and rubbed it in his face. He rolled his ass in the priest's face. I pulled his hair back. Other Kiss. Another slap. Bite this time. He sucked his tongue. He rubbed his chin, his neck, his ear against the priest's thick beard. He bent down and put the entire dick in his mouth in one go. - Huuuuuum!!!! My God!!! - Priest. You must not pronounce the name of God in vain. I'll teach you a new sermon. You will repeat everything I say. Now you're going to say that I'm your hot bitch. He looked startled. Another slap. She took off her panties, sat back on his lap and started rubbing her wet pussy on the tip of his dick. When he tilted his hips trying to enter her, she hit and dodged, preventing him from penetrating.

- He speaks. Or there won't be. - Hot bitch! Come, let me enter you. - It's not going in. It's fucking. - Let me fuck you all over. - You learn fast. But it won't be that easy. You need to be baptized in an unforgettable way. So she picked up her cell phone from the floor. Wrote a message. He waited less than two minutes, and Rita de Cássia, Gracinha's friend and disciple, appeared dressed just like Maria das Graças, but the other saint's lingerie was red. The priest even tried to say something, but was silenced by Ritinha's kiss on his mouth. And for the mouthful that Gracinha gave his dick. - I can't take it. You're going to kill me. Suck it more... - If you die, first we will give you “extreme unction.” The girls got up and started kissing each other in front of the priest who watched the scene enraptured. They touched. They sucked each other, and took off each other's little clothes, leaving them both completely naked. He's sitting. Tied. Tortured. I couldn't do anything but appreciate it. Surrender. Ritinha got on her knees in front of her friend and started sucking her pussy. Gracinha rolled around. He groaned. She pulled her friend's hair. He pressed Ritinha tightly against his clitoris. Ritinha stuck two whole fingers in her friend's pussy and another in her ass while sucking and biting her clitoris hard. - Do you see this, Father? This is how we are going to sacrament you for sex. You're going to fuck us both up. - You hot demons!!!! Bitches. Whores. Dogs. - Yesssss, Father! We are demons, and you are going to exorcise us now. Gracinha released the priest's hands and ordered him to lie down on the floor. Ritinha sat with her pussy in his face and said in an imperative tone.

- Suck me, priest. Suck GOS-TO-SO. The priest stuck his tongue into that dark pussy, sucked, licked. His beard was all sticky with the liquid that dripped from it. “Blessed is the fruit that is in your womb.” Gracinha wasted no time. She slowly sat down on his dick. Little by little torturing him so he could feel what it was like to fuck a woman while sucking another. He couldn't take it anymore, he held the blonde by the waist, pushed what was left, and fucked the blonde's pussy with his dick while he fucked the brunette's pussy with his tongue. And to “worse” the situation, they kissed facing each other. Holy whores! - I'm not going to take it like this. - What does I can't take it mean? Speak. And with a single movement Gracinha got off the priest's cock. - If you continue like this I'm going to cum... - No. First you're going to make me cum. Sit down. He sat down. And she sat down again on the priest's dick. But this time he put his drooling cock all over her tight ass. And he rolled. Rolled around. Rolled around. Ritinha stood in front of her friend who sucked her again and fucked her with her fingers. Ritinha's ass was in the priest's face. And Gracinha, who was in charge of the fucking, said: - Now you're going to suck her ass, while you fuck my ass, and I suck her pussy. Let's all enjoy it together. Fuck good, fuck. Very strong. I want this whole dick pulsing in my ass. I want you to fill me with this hot cum. She had barely finished speaking when she felt the hot jet inside her ass and on her tongue Ritinha was twitching, she felt her friend's muscles, who were also cumming, contract in her mouth. Graça gave herself up, came madly. Crazy. And the priest, previously chaste. He knew all the Grace of the Thing and saw that that girl “was full, full of Grace... "Amen!”