Irene Sheri paintings

Irene Sheri paintings
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Il'ya Repin paintings
love, the way the Founder tested people in the Old Syllabus."
"Anastasia. . ." The name seemed strange to me now, and her hair's rich smell. What was it I held, and calledAnastasia? A slender bagful of meaty pipes and pouches, grown upon with hairs, soaked through with juices, strung up on jointed sticks, the whole thing pulsing, squirting, bubbling, flexing, combusting, and respiring in my arms; doomed soon enough to decompose into its elements, yet afflicted in the brief meanwhile with mad imaginings, so that, not content to jelly through the night and meld, ingest, divide, it troubled its sleep with dreams ofpassèdness, oflove . . .
She squeezed more tightly; I felt the blood-muscle pumping behind her teat, through no governance ofAnastasia. My penis rose, unbid byGeorge ; was it a George of its own? A quarter-billion beasties were set to swarm therefrom and thrash like salmon up the mucous of her womb; were they little Georges all?
I groaned. "I don't understand anything!"