Ferrola. Famo took off her tight leather jacket, she didn't like bras as always, her ** was round and straight, and she had never had a doctor fill it with glycerin and silicone, and some skilled and fantastical mongrel painted her entire breast with needles and dye, it was a pair of bulls with broad and tight muscles, a pair of large horns that bent towards the center of her forehead, which poked out of her hilly forehead in the center of her collarbone, and two down-looking, four-sided diamond-shaped black eyes staring down at her **,**beautiful, reddish-brown, large, erect like the little finger of an Indian - the cheeks and jaws of the livestock are deliberately omitted, the lower part of the ** retains the texture and color of cream, the bull's pitch-black and swollen nose is located in the center of the **, and there is a gold ring in the nose that can be pulled by the fingers - a female toddler corpse that has not yet fully developed is tightly bitten by the bull's devilish fangs, her head is tilted, her arms hang weakly at her side, and her smooth legs protrude from under the gold ring, and her toes reach into her navel.

She and her agent enjoyed the booze, the drugs, and the chocolate cream cake in bed, and they licked each other and lazily stroked each other, not rushing to get to the point, and they didn't start to love until the drugs really worked.

Ferrola's economic man is not strong, even with the help of drugs, his performance in bed will make many women unhappy, but he is still a good person, Ferrola. Famo said in his heart.

Ferrola. The part of Famo that belonged to the maidens disappeared much earlier than the other girls, and after that, as if something was in her way, was removed, and she saw countless men, and they saw her—they were between sixteen and sixty years old, of different origins, of very different temperaments—handsome, ugly, gentle. Rough, weak, robust, rich. Worthless, smelly, and smelling of high-end perfumes...... She danced with them as she pleased, drank, dined, walked, vacationed and slept with them, and Ferrola was a gentle and patient girl who received a lot of praise.

A lowly and useless man approached her by falsely claiming to be a spy and working under Gregory. It was the same Gregori who single-handedly took out the sirens and unearthed good seedlings for him that were not yet known - he did not know that as long as Ferrora was in a good mood, even if he was just a bum, she would be willing to have a spring breeze with him - and the lie was soon exposed. But Ferrora had a new idea, and she ran away from home, walking through nearly ten districts and around Gregory's mansion, wanting to see him.

Of course, this was impossible, and in order to make a living, she worked in a tavern. A real spy found her, and after sleeping with her, he recommended her to his boss, and she slept with that boss again, and he listened to her sing a song, and she got a chance, and then she slept with a lot of people. Assistant, handyman, agent, director, producer. There are also makeup artists, videographers, lighting artists, dancers, accompaniments...... And so on, as long as they're even interested — often too often for a woman like Ferrola — it's tiring for newcomers, her agent said.

These people have more or less peculiar fetishes. An assistant director asked her to put on a red apron naked, while he, too, with only a pair of dog-eared headbands, ran around her naked, barking and barking; An off-site consultant, he was an old professor, well-dressed and polite, and instead of loving her, he put her across his knees, pulled off her pants, and spanked her with the palm of his hand and the wooden ruler he carried with him; A makeup artist, shaved himself naked, put on a fake ** made of rubber and pretended to be a pregnant woman and her zuo love, when it was almost **, he moaned loudly, suddenly opened the zipper on the fake belly, and took out a baby specimen in a formalin glass jar from it! It really scared her out of her.

What disturbed Ferrola the most was that many of them were nue-crazy or nue-crazy, and Ferrora had no interest in slapping someone, whipping him/her, and strangling him/her, and she didn't want such a thing to happen to her.

"Ferrola," said the agent, "you'd do well to temper yourself for the next two days—I mean, don't leave any marks on you, I've got you a precious invitation—an elegant, energetic private party ......"

Ferrora looked hesitant: she hesitated for a moment, then pulled up the linen sheet and went into the bathroom.

When she came out of the bathroom, the agent looked at her a little worriedly: "What's wrong?" "You don't look a little happy," he said.

"Well, the ......," Ferrora said embarrassedly, "I probably won't be able to go?"

The agent craned his neck suddenly, and his eyes widened.

"I was about to talk to you about this," Ferrora said politely, with a chill rising from the back of the agent's neck, "I'm not going to continue......

"Don't tell me you want to go back to college!"

"No," Ferrora shrugged, "I'm going back to get married."

"Get married!" The Homo Economicus screamed, "We were still debating last month whether your new name should be Yeda or Emily!"

Ferrora scratched her hair, "That's when I met him."

"Who is he!? An Addict 9 is a guitarist?"

"A police officer."

"A policeman, hah, a policeman." The agent scoffed - but as Ferrora had said, he was a good man, and even in this case, he didn't say anything overkill. He sat down on the bed and made up his mind: "Do you know that if you give up this opportunity, you may never come back?" I won't want you anymore, and neither will anyone else - even if it's a big star, honey, look at the siren, how long has she disappeared? But people have gradually forgotten about her—there are so many good things here, nothing is indispensable—and when you are gone, you will have to go home and continue to be your mortal man, and no one will pay attention to you, and no one will care about you, and after a few years, you will regret it when you are fat, oily skin, unkempt hair, and you are sorting out goods in the supermarket in a baggy T-shirt or bending over in the cellar of a tavern for eight hours to carry beer crates, Ferrola. ”

A soft white light seeped into the room through the cracks in the blinds that obscured the windows, illuminating the blue smoke of the drug that floated in the air.

"I don't think I will," said Ferrola, "I'm sorry, but I may have told you earlier that I—I don't want to live this life anymore—I mean, sleep with this man today, sleep with that man tomorrow...... I don't want to be forced to do this kind of thing, it makes me feel like a prostitute. ”

"So what?" The agent said, "Don't you like that too?"

"I'm sick, he told me so, he's met people like me in a previous rape case," Ferrora said seriously, "He said, it's very likely that I have a temporal lobe lesion, or I have taken too much medication to do this, as long as I quit the drug and go for a check-up and treatment, I won't always want to sleep with a man."

"Don't do that, Ferrola." The agent persuaded: "One month, thirty days, do you really know that man?" Is he just joking with you? The cops aren't all good guys, you should know, he could be a violent maniac, a chauvinistic dog, or he could be a tong sexual, a tong fetish. "There must be something wrong with him, otherwise how would he have taken a fancy to Ferrola. What about Famo?

"I'm sorry," Ferrola said, turning the ring on her hand to show him the diamonds on it, "we've fallen." I also ate with his parents. ”

The agent sat on the edge of the bed with his head down, and the little old man looked even more listless than the work under his belly.

"What about the weekend's party?"

"I can't participate," Ferrora said, "and I promised him that he wouldn't sleep with any other man again."

"You were still in love with me just now." The broker retorted.

"Oh," said Ferrola, "it's just a farewell, my dear, you're a good man."

"Then say goodbye one more time," begged the economic man, "you don't know, Ferrola, this invitation is for you, a little boy, he is infatuated with you, he wants to meet you, Ferrola, he is as old as your brother, and he has no bad habits—it was a small party, five or six people at most, drink some wine, dance, comfort the little ones, I'll send you there, and I'll send you back, and I'll take you back for a short night, and I swear no one will say it."

Ferrora blew.

"Please," said the agent, "the little boy's uncle is on good terms with Glegri—you know, Gligri is our king."

Ferrola's eyes looked at the ceiling and she shook her head.

She grabbed the clothes on one side, first put on the pitiful small panties, then put on the one-piece tight leather jacket, left foot, right foot, pull up hard, the most difficult place to pass is the buttocks, her buttocks are full and firm, the agent wearing only a shirt comes to help her, his head is shaking under her **, Ferrora can see his hairline when he looks down slightly - extremely sad hairline.

"Well," she said, "where's the invitation?"

((One second to remember)