They are strange uncles. Although it's a sign of righteousness and awe-inspiring love. He sees you as a woman who possesses you and enters you, while he sees you as a daughter, taking care of you and teaching you.
You have a silver screen for the first time, crawling on the grass, with a wet flesh-colored clothes, your white toes are covered with red komon, your waist and buttocks are beautifully lined, and you wear red lipstick with twisted braids. You just turn your head and smile slightly, and you become a fascinating little fairy. You read the star pictorial in the rain, chewing gum wildly.
It's hard to tell who seduced whom first.
Of course Uncle Han likes Lolita. It’s just this liking, is it a man’s lust for a woman or a man’s love for a woman?
Lust is a piston movement in various postures, and love is a light and thin certificate. Willing to wear white gauze and tuxedos to exchange rings with each other and say I do.
The long journey is all long shots. The endless western highway is dusty. The little fairy Lolita wore a short coat and skirt, stuck her head out of the car, chewing gum forever. She looked heartless, unscrupulously asking for a kiss from the uncle and stepping on his waist, her pink tongue tangled, sucking greedily, and asking for warmth. But there is no love.
She only loves Cui Di, even though this tall man is a disgusting guy who has incompetence and can only play and appreciate the group P's photos. She deliberately saves money and wants to leave Han.
She was wearing a simple white shirt, sitting on the ground, rubbing his sensitive parts with her toes. She asked him: Do you like it?
Then he walked between his two legs, with a provocative look, and said: My pocket money is one yuan a week, I think it should be two yuan. She leaned her gardenia-white face gently.
He shouldn't.
Her fingers continued to circle. I think it should be two yuan.
One and a half.
She got closer and closer to the core, her pink fingers wandering skillfully. I really think it should be two yuan. real.
He finally couldn't bear it, and let out a deep breath. Okay, two yuan.
She smiled brightly like a child. Showing the neat teeth of the little beast, I still want to act in a drama.
It's Kuidi's script.
She used this method to fight for rights and interests, and even fought him on the bed, spreading coins. He yelled while dodging her fist: How can you increase the price midway?
This is originally the emotion of inequality.
She traded her youthful body in exchange for life and demanded to call him father. He loves her to indulge and takes her to a high-end hotel, claiming that this is my little daughter: Luo.
But she was going to grow up in the end, like a small bird growing into a big Peng, running away for love, leaving him to live and get pregnant.
Three years later, she wrote to ask for money. He rushed to see her. All kinds of tenderness came to my heart. Luo, it's only twenty-five steps away from the classic car you are familiar with. I will take you away. He didn't mind that she was already bloated and sloppy with someone else's flesh and blood.
She shook her head slightly, but answered firmly: NO, I have never loved you.
He really loves her.
He shot Cui Di and drove the classic car down and down. In her hand, she also held the black hairpin she had left behind.
His beloved, his lust, his soul, his eternal Lolita. He lost her forever.
She is not a trapped animal in a cage, she can only get food for charity. No one can stop her from growing up, nor can he keep her by his side day and night.
Her vigorous vitality is in stark contrast to his aging. Because of his cowardice because he couldn't control it because of love, he surrendered in her sweet smile, in her body like a spring. The more he indulged, the more incompetent she was like a mangy dog praying for food, the more she sneered and tried her best to toss.
Leaving her, he smokes and drinks alcohol, and she sings and sings every night.
The old gentleman also rickets due to time. She is the only aphrodisiac for his pale white world.
This is true of all skins and flesh, and one day it will be loose and tarnished, fat piled up with belly wrinkles and freckles on the face. No matter how young the flesh is, it will be like this.
You are. Me too.
He died in prison.
Lolita, the little fairy, became a woman, died of dystocia, and the dust settled.
The brighter the flowers, the faster they decayed.
Everything in the world will disappear into the vast universe. No matter how much love or hate. How much desire and love.
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