Zerg Achilles

The wine warms your stomach, dries your lips and tongue, your eye sockets are slightly hot, and your body also warms up, but your heart sinks empty.

It shouldn't be like this, you've drank alcohol, and you've passed out when there's no one else, but you've never had such a burning desire in your heart, you're sober and stripped of reason and emotion, you want to hug someone, it's nothing to love or hate, it's simple It's just my passion.

"Kuntu."

You condescendingly shouted his name, he fell to the ground in a little embarrassment, tensed all the muscles, and turned a deaf ear to your murmur.

He furrowed his eyebrows ferociously, wanting to overcome his instinctive obedience and stand up, but he could only use stronger willpower to control the desire to stick up. He arched his waist, gritted his teeth, and his plump muscles followed the movement of his standing up Undulating, full of vigorous explosive power and dynamic and turbulent beauty.

"There is a problem with alcohol, sober up."

You put your face blankly, pressing your fingers against his warm skin, you would have said sorry, then calmly stopped and stood up from him.

You will do this, you don't want to force anyone, and you don't accept casual sex, not to mention you hear Su Ke's name, and you feel that all the impulses may have something to do with him, but you are too sad, and the emotional chains are strangling you throat, forcing you to break the silence.

What should you say?

you do not know.

You have experienced a lot of bad luck, knowing that it can't break your will, but you still can't vent it reasonably.

You need laughter and encouragement. Even if you know you can't do it, countless experiences tell you that the prerequisite for success is not to indulge in death and failure.

You have always encouraged yourself so much, but at this moment you collapsed into a mess.

You have no tears, no words, just like every time you suffer in silence, even if a corner of your heart collapses, it is difficult to feel mourning because it will be forgotten or rebuilt one day.

You lowered your head and caught his panting before your eyes. You sat on his waist and listened to him appease your emotions. He talked about wine, Su Ke, and the solution, all in an orderly manner, and it would be resolved when you got up.

He tried his best to restrain himself, tilted his head and staggered his breathing, and tried to warn you that he had stronger strength and a stronger will than you, but they were all used to overcome instinct.

You say: "No."

Then he leaned over and kissed him, his eyes widened, stiff as a nailed frog, his cheeks swayed slightly, and he let out a subdued gasp, he wanted to push you away, but he hugged you into his arms like a hug middle.

He also said, "No."

But in the face of nature, all struggles seem meaningless.

You took off his pants, licked his chest, lingered on his tight waist, kissed his forehead, eyes, lips, and then slid into his groin against the skin, you have never been so eager, and never Without such warmth, you succumbed to your instincts and responded to your desire, like ice crashing into a flame, making a soft pop.

You open him like a book, and he opens himself before you,

You embed him, hug him, listen to his hoarse gasp, you feel him, hug him, gasp gently, you want him to respond to you with all his heart, your loneliness, your everything, and melt you.

But he looked dazed, pained and dazed.

You kissed his lips, but you didn't know how to express it, as if your thoughts were being cut into pieces with the rhythm, you should feel ashamed, ashamed, but your heart is so satisfied, you don't understand what you long for is emotion , or a body, any one.

You were sweating against each other, your breathing was blending, your chest trembled with each other, his Adam's apple trembled, his eyes were slightly closed, and his lips opened. He said no, and then hugged you tightly, his legs clasped behind you.

how warm.

Since the closeness of the body can bring such warmth, why should we be demanding on feelings?You feel at a loss, but you can't get an answer. He bowed his body and lay on your shoulders. When you turn your face, you can see his blushing ears and his forbearance.

You don't know if he's happy, if you're giving enough pleasure.

You didn't love him, so you have no way of knowing.

Those memorized poems are dug out from the dust, turning the pages in your head, they sing love, praise virtue, combine love and sex into beautiful words, and assert that the two are inseparable.

It says that love is tolerant, love is selfless, it is hotter than the flame, brighter than the sun, all the dark and corrupt in front of it are like fireflies under the sun, it heals the pain, cleanses the soul, it cannot be built without it, it cannot be built without it destroy.

They have provided you with a template for measuring your feelings over the years. You have obeyed piously and never overstepped, but you still didn't get it in the end.

You raised the corners of your lips indifferently, but you were turned over suddenly. Kuntu turned over and pushed you to the ground. His whole body was naked, the corners of his eyes were flushed, but he was still full of toughness and evil spirit.

You fell to the ground on your back, silent, and he raised his left eyebrow, bent down, and put his hands on his sides.

"Why are you crying? It's not you who was bullied."

He stretched out his hand, and his warm skin was close to your cold cheek, brushing against the bottom of your eyes, a little stinging, and you stretched out your hand to grab his palm in a daze.

You do not understand.

Maybe it's because your puzzled expression is too obvious, the female worm on top of you finally sympathetically said: "Do you really know, and who is suffering?"

"..."

He didn't wait for your answer, or expected you to be speechless, the female was so bold, he clasped your hands and pressed them to his sides, with a lazy and rebellious expression, as if the powerlessness and fragility just now were just a short-lived disguise .

You thought he would say something, but he just smiled softly, stood up from you, picked up the dropped clothes, and walked back to his sleeping bag as if nothing had happened.

You see his worm marks, on the inner thighs.

A sleepless night.

In the early morning of the next day, Kuntu got up early to pack his bags. When you heard the voice, you opened your eyes and packed your sleeping bag silently. That absurd night was like a stone thrown into a deep pool, splashing huge water, and then returning to calm .

You are advancing along the migratory route of wild camels. At the two ends of a hill, the green pastures are divided into two ends. The wild camels leave their hoofprints on the side with rich water and grass, and the grass on the other side is sparse, yellow and white. The tip of the grass was a lifeless purple, full of ominous meaning.

As far as the eye can see, large tracts of green land are withered, exposing the yellow-brown mud, while on the other side, the grass is still floating and full of vitality.

"curious?"

Kuntu is sitting on the grass camel in front of you. You can’t hide it from him by looking around frequently. You were worried about his buttocks, but he rode the grass camel for a long time in a lazy and casual manner. Worry no more.

"why?"

The withered grass is too weird, which aroused your curiosity. Kuntu looked back at you: "Equivalent exchange, you answer my question, and I will tell you why."

You licked your dry lips and asked, "What's the problem."

"What's your real name?"

The author has something to say:

The author's style of writing and painting is relatively dull, thank you for seeing the little angels here, it gives me the motivation to keep writing, love you guys chirp_(:3」ㄥ)_