<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UNQnozeSp7ImA9WxBTE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850</id><updated>2009-12-08T15:34:53.481-08:00</updated><title>Palavras Sensuais</title><subtitle type="html">O erotismo é uma das bases do conhecimento de nós próprios, tão indispensável como a poesia.
( ANAIS NIN )</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/PalavrasSensuais" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EEQng6cCp7ImA9WxNUGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-3329263092671494153</id><published>2009-11-09T21:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T21:40:03.618-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-09T21:40:03.618-08:00</app:edited><title>Amante da Lua</title><content type="html">Alta noite, sem sono, desço ao jardim do hotel. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Caminho lentamente e sinto uma brisa boa que vem da lua.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Fecho os olhos e a sinto por todo meu corpo, que, coberto só com um vestido de seda, parece flutuar, leve e solto. A brisa invade-me inteira. E, assim, parada, luz só da lua, que me ama como nunca.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/Svj8oT0WfnI/AAAAAAAAETY/_cW6etw_rSA/s1600-h/thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/Svj8oT0WfnI/AAAAAAAAETY/_cW6etw_rSA/s320/thumb.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sinto-me confidente dela, nós duas nuas de frente uma pra outra. Sim, nuas. Tiro o vestido, levanto os braços, fecho os olhos e giro, giro, sinto um êxtase pelo corpo, uma liberdade. Sinto-me mulher, como nunca me senti.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minutos depois, olhos acostumados à escuridão, percebo um corpo deitado no gramado. É um homem. Está nu? Coloco o vestido e fico ali, parada, observando aquele corpo, deitado, braços e pernas abertas, amando a mesma lua que eu. Eu, a lua, e o desconhecido. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sinto-me a verdadeira maluca, não resisto, me aproximo e percebo que não está nu, usa um calção. Deixo que me veja, enquanto passo quase do seu lado, fingindo olhos fechados, braços abertos, e me ajoelho à sua frente, de costas pra ele, de frente pra lua.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sinto que minha respiração já não é mais a mesma, sinto que meu corpo quer se entregar à lua, ao homem e, ainda nestes pensamentos, sinto uma mão na minha cintura. Não reajo. Sinto a outra. Uma desce pela perna, outra sobe pelas costas. Uma levanta minha saia, e me descobre nua por baixo. Outra toca meu pescoço entrelaça os dedos nos meus cabelos e num só movimento me força pra frente com o corpo e me puxa a cabeça pra trás. E me vejo assim, de quatro, de frente pra lua, com um desconhecido a me tocar, a me acariciar e, como nunca fiz antes, desejo ser amada assim, como cadela, sem rodeios. Apoio os cotovelos na grama, meu rosto entre eles, e espero, anseio e recebo aquele homem dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sinto a brisa da lua, a mesma brisa me rodeando, me tocando todo o corpo. Sinto aquele homem pulsando, me amando; aquele homem que não tem rosto, aquela lua que, amiga, é minha única testemunha e proteção.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ela me abençoa, sinto. E sinto que, embora pareça o contrário, eu fiz o que quis com aquele homem, sem perguntar o nome, sem saber quem era, e ele se foi. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fico ainda um momento ali, entregue na grama, deitada, aberta, amada. Cheia do poder e do amor que a lua me amou.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Não foi um homem, foi a própria lua que me amou naquela noite&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-3329263092671494153?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/3329263092671494153/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=3329263092671494153" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/3329263092671494153?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/3329263092671494153?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2009/11/amante-da-lua.html" title="Amante da Lua" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/Svj8oT0WfnI/AAAAAAAAETY/_cW6etw_rSA/s72-c/thumb.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAEQH06eCp7ImA9WxNQEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-3714654646005188348</id><published>2009-09-17T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T21:05:01.310-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-17T21:05:01.310-07:00</app:edited><title>Novo Ontem</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SrMGjBMh31I/AAAAAAAAEOM/E925ZJzQlIo/s1600-h/N4Fa7vzXdpdy02slBcrMaP0ko1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 148px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382653178324049746" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SrMGjBMh31I/AAAAAAAAEOM/E925ZJzQlIo/s200/N4Fa7vzXdpdy02slBcrMaP0ko1_500.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dez anos se passaram&lt;br /&gt;Mas parecia ontem&lt;br /&gt;Há dez anos vivia com o mesmo ontem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não me lembrava mais dele&lt;br /&gt;Sim, eu me lembrava&lt;br /&gt;Esquecera seu cheiro&lt;br /&gt;Sua força, a mesma de dez anos&lt;br /&gt;E ainda sentia suas mãos&lt;br /&gt;As que me pegaram pela primeira vez&lt;br /&gt;A força da puxada&lt;br /&gt;A primeira, que se fez única&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dez anos e eu me esquecera&lt;br /&gt;E sempre que me sentia puxada&lt;br /&gt;Sempre que sentia mãos e força&lt;br /&gt;Era dele que me lembrava&lt;br /&gt;Sempre que alguém me entrava&lt;br /&gt;Sentia ele dentro de mim&lt;br /&gt;Do meu único primeiro&lt;br /&gt;Inesquecível momento mulher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ontem, no bar, quando o vi, duvidei&lt;br /&gt;Pouco nos falamos&lt;br /&gt;Bebida, olhar, pele se procurando&lt;br /&gt;Quarto de hotel&lt;br /&gt;Mesmas mãos já esquecidas&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo cheiro que não sai de mim&lt;br /&gt;Mesma força e jeito ao me puxar&lt;br /&gt;Ao criar espaço, entrar e ficar&lt;br /&gt;Novo momento&lt;br /&gt;Novamente inesquecível&lt;br /&gt;Novo ontem na minha vida &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-3714654646005188348?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/3714654646005188348/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=3714654646005188348" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/3714654646005188348?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/3714654646005188348?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2009/09/dez-anos-se-passaram-mas-parecia-ontem.html" title="Novo Ontem" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SrMGjBMh31I/AAAAAAAAEOM/E925ZJzQlIo/s72-c/N4Fa7vzXdpdy02slBcrMaP0ko1_500.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMNSXc-eip7ImA9WxJbGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-6959486356226567794</id><published>2009-07-28T18:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T18:54:58.952-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-28T18:54:58.952-07:00</app:edited><title>Espelho</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/Sm-rcwKJ3UI/AAAAAAAAEL0/D2gpDBOqYfI/s1600-h/6a00d83451b46869e200e54f9251b48834-640wi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 221px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363694191673728322" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/Sm-rcwKJ3UI/AAAAAAAAEL0/D2gpDBOqYfI/s320/6a00d83451b46869e200e54f9251b48834-640wi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;No banheiro ela me olhou&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto arrumava minha blusa&lt;br /&gt;Ajeitava o sutiã&lt;br /&gt;No espelho, a vi me observando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Só passava meu batom&lt;br /&gt;E, enquanto ajeitava meu cabelo,&lt;br /&gt;Ela estava comigo na imagem&lt;br /&gt;Fitando meus olhos refletidos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Ao arrumar a calça, de lado,&lt;br /&gt;Não tive a intenção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Só levantei o vestido o suficiente&lt;br /&gt;Só para acertar a calcinha&lt;br /&gt;Não foi por querer que fiquei de costas pra ela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;E assim, de costas uma pra outra,&lt;br /&gt;Perfis refletidos&lt;br /&gt;Primeira e única palavra&lt;br /&gt;Simultânea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;- Linda!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simultâneos sorrisos encabulados&lt;br /&gt;Respiração sincronizada&lt;br /&gt;Inevitável virarem, ao mesmo tempo,&lt;br /&gt;Olho no olho, boca imperceptivelmente entreaberta,&lt;br /&gt;Incontrolável beijo&lt;br /&gt;E beijo e beijo e beijo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A de calça saiu apressada e nervosa&lt;br /&gt;Esqueceu o batom na boca que não tinha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-6959486356226567794?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/6959486356226567794/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=6959486356226567794" title="3 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/6959486356226567794?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/6959486356226567794?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2009/07/espelho.html" title="Espelho" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/Sm-rcwKJ3UI/AAAAAAAAEL0/D2gpDBOqYfI/s72-c/6a00d83451b46869e200e54f9251b48834-640wi.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UBQXo7eSp7ImA9WxJWFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-5894439793758830760</id><published>2009-06-21T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T21:34:10.401-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-21T21:34:10.401-07:00</app:edited><title>Múltipla</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/Sj8Jsp5WD6I/AAAAAAAAC5w/mcG0smXYg58/s1600-h/group%2520sex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350005545104707490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/Sj8Jsp5WD6I/AAAAAAAAC5w/mcG0smXYg58/s320/group%2520sex.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Quando me vejo ali&lt;br /&gt;Não sei se sou eu&lt;br /&gt;Não sei quem são&lt;br /&gt;Mas sinto vida&lt;br /&gt;Como nunca senti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escorre por meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;Suores e líquidos&lt;br /&gt;Cheiros e perfumes&lt;br /&gt;De toda sorte&lt;br /&gt;De todo gênero&lt;br /&gt;E sou uma com todos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto bocas e mãos&lt;br /&gt;E não me sinto mais&lt;br /&gt;Nada é pecado&lt;br /&gt;Nada é errado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já não penso&lt;br /&gt;Ajo por extinto&lt;br /&gt;Que não sabia possuir&lt;br /&gt;E possuo e sou possuída&lt;br /&gt;Sou toda energia&lt;br /&gt;Pulso, ardo&lt;br /&gt;E nem sei quem sou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só sei que o que vem&lt;br /&gt;E o que sai&lt;br /&gt;O que entra por onde entrar&lt;br /&gt;Tudo, hoje, faz parte de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E vou sem pensar&lt;br /&gt;No cheiro, no tato&lt;br /&gt;Sem hesitação&lt;br /&gt;Quero mais e mais&lt;br /&gt;Instinto, gozo e prazer&lt;br /&gt;E nem quero saber de fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-5894439793758830760?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/5894439793758830760/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=5894439793758830760" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/5894439793758830760?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/5894439793758830760?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2009/06/multipla.html" title="Múltipla" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/Sj8Jsp5WD6I/AAAAAAAAC5w/mcG0smXYg58/s72-c/group%2520sex.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkINRHY_eCp7ImA9WxVWGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-3724969613831380177</id><published>2009-02-28T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T06:16:35.840-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-28T06:16:35.840-08:00</app:edited><title>Tua Pele</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SalHAnu6MtI/AAAAAAAAC2o/XhXVhl-TXIg/s1600-h/beijo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307851711824147154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SalHAnu6MtI/AAAAAAAAC2o/XhXVhl-TXIg/s320/beijo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Tua pele ainda está aqui&lt;br /&gt;Sinto tuas costas&lt;br /&gt;Sinto teu pescoço&lt;br /&gt;E o cheiro de teus cabelos&lt;br /&gt;Que não sai de mim&lt;br /&gt;A textura de tua barriga&lt;br /&gt;Na palma das minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando fecho os olhos&lt;br /&gt;Vejo-te novamente&lt;br /&gt;Em cima da cama&lt;br /&gt;Lembro de cada curva&lt;br /&gt;De cada extremidade&lt;br /&gt;Cada osso sendo tocado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sua cor branca&lt;br /&gt;Suavidade&lt;br /&gt;A temperatura de seu corpo&lt;br /&gt;Dentro e fora&lt;br /&gt;E teus sabores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto teus toques&lt;br /&gt;Teus beijos&lt;br /&gt;Tuas mãos&lt;br /&gt;Por todo meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;E sonho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vinho branco na boca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;E brindo ao nosso encontro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-3724969613831380177?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/3724969613831380177/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=3724969613831380177" title="4 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/3724969613831380177?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/3724969613831380177?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2009/02/tua-pele.html" title="Tua Pele" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SalHAnu6MtI/AAAAAAAAC2o/XhXVhl-TXIg/s72-c/beijo.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UAQXs4cCp7ImA9WxVXEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-610753602834968583</id><published>2009-02-08T16:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T16:27:20.538-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-08T16:27:20.538-08:00</app:edited><title>Ponto a Ponto</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SY94WPFeWzI/AAAAAAAAC2U/Z4rBdOM3OPE/s1600-h/beijo_1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300587609840311090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SY94WPFeWzI/AAAAAAAAC2U/Z4rBdOM3OPE/s320/beijo_1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Ponto a ponto&lt;br /&gt;E com a boca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Testa e fecha os olhos&lt;br /&gt;Sinto os supercílios&lt;br /&gt;Sinto as pálpebras&lt;br /&gt;E as beijo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuca&lt;br /&gt;Atrás das orelhas&lt;br /&gt;Pescoço&lt;br /&gt;Desço aos ombros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coluna&lt;br /&gt;Vértebra por vértebra&lt;br /&gt;Beijo por beijo&lt;br /&gt;E devagar&lt;br /&gt;Até o quadril&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora vem dos pés&lt;br /&gt;Dedo a dedo&lt;br /&gt;Na boca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tornozelo e calcanhar&lt;br /&gt;Canelas e coxas&lt;br /&gt;E coxas e bunda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E perco a massagem&lt;br /&gt;Perco-me em ti&lt;br /&gt;Não resisto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dentro e fora&lt;br /&gt;Boca e beijos&lt;br /&gt;E língua&lt;br /&gt;E meios&lt;br /&gt;Dentro e fora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A massagear&lt;br /&gt;Toda e todo corpo&lt;br /&gt;E beijos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-610753602834968583?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/610753602834968583/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=610753602834968583" title="5 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/610753602834968583?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/610753602834968583?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2009/02/ponto-ponto.html" title="Ponto a Ponto" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SY94WPFeWzI/AAAAAAAAC2U/Z4rBdOM3OPE/s72-c/beijo_1.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEAFQHs6cCp7ImA9WxVREkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-3770583274289038190</id><published>2009-01-18T04:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T04:45:11.518-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-18T04:45:11.518-08:00</app:edited><title>Pôr-do-sol</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SXMkPC1kx1I/AAAAAAAAC1I/8aXgw9yDcqs/s1600-h/pordosol.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292613827968681810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SXMkPC1kx1I/AAAAAAAAC1I/8aXgw9yDcqs/s320/pordosol.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Fim de tarde&lt;br /&gt;Céu alaranjado&lt;br /&gt;Em frente ao rio&lt;br /&gt;E engulo seco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sol imenso começa a baixar&lt;br /&gt;E percebo a respiração alterada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflexo no rio forma outro&lt;br /&gt;Perpendicular rio&lt;br /&gt;Especial, efêmero, de luz&lt;br /&gt;E sinto os seios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conforme baixa troca de cores&lt;br /&gt;Inúmeras vezes troca de cores&lt;br /&gt;E meu corpo é todo arrepios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frente ao sol que baixa&lt;br /&gt;Frente ao rio de luz&lt;br /&gt;Direto, em minha direção&lt;br /&gt;E ali, parada, receptiva&lt;br /&gt;Boca seca&lt;br /&gt;Mamilos explodem&lt;br /&gt;Febre sobe e desce no corpo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E sou inteira do sol&lt;br /&gt;Que me ama forte&lt;br /&gt;Até seu último raio&lt;br /&gt;E some dentro do rio&lt;br /&gt;Dentro de mim some&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resta-me o céu cor-de-rosa&lt;br /&gt;Que contemplo em todas suas cores&lt;br /&gt;Até escurecer&lt;br /&gt;Dentro de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-3770583274289038190?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/3770583274289038190/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=3770583274289038190" title="4 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/3770583274289038190?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/3770583274289038190?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2009/01/pr-do-sol.html" title="Pôr-do-sol" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SXMkPC1kx1I/AAAAAAAAC1I/8aXgw9yDcqs/s72-c/pordosol.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIESXs6cSp7ImA9WxVSEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-996982267243974777</id><published>2009-01-04T04:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T04:51:48.519-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-04T04:51:48.519-08:00</app:edited><title>Tântrica</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SWCw0LUXEqI/AAAAAAAAC0w/GOOe-jeS0j8/s1600-h/tantrica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287420372970836642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 290px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SWCw0LUXEqI/AAAAAAAAC0w/GOOe-jeS0j8/s320/tantrica.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Toque&lt;br /&gt;Pele&lt;br /&gt;Desliza de leve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ponto a ponto&lt;br /&gt;Desliza para fluir&lt;br /&gt;E assim por todo corpo&lt;br /&gt;Todo&lt;br /&gt;Toque e deslize&lt;br /&gt;Devagar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao contrário do imaginado&lt;br /&gt;A excitação só aumenta&lt;br /&gt;A cada contato&lt;br /&gt;A cada minuto a mais&lt;br /&gt;A cada pêlo reconhecido entre os dedos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem pudor e sem pressa&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes com mais força&lt;br /&gt;Outras, mal encosta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a energia flui&lt;br /&gt;O amor se espalha&lt;br /&gt;Todo corpo se torna erógeno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei se melhor é dar ou receber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-996982267243974777?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/996982267243974777/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=996982267243974777" title="6 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/996982267243974777?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/996982267243974777?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2009/01/tntrica.html" title="Tântrica" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SWCw0LUXEqI/AAAAAAAAC0w/GOOe-jeS0j8/s72-c/tantrica.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4BQH8-eCp7ImA9WxRVGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-1059780426761261794</id><published>2008-11-17T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T13:55:51.150-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-11-17T13:55:51.150-08:00</app:edited><title>Brilhante</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SSHn-P0_1NI/AAAAAAAAC0o/oz30ubdWook/s1600-h/208421974_1d15c440ef.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269748095586915538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SSHn-P0_1NI/AAAAAAAAC0o/oz30ubdWook/s320/208421974_1d15c440ef.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Não é só beleza&lt;br /&gt;Embora não seja pouca&lt;br /&gt;É mais&lt;br /&gt;É brilho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cabelos crespos&lt;br /&gt;Negros&lt;br /&gt;Boca sensual&lt;br /&gt;Vermelha&lt;br /&gt;Olhos, que olhos!&lt;br /&gt;Nem sei de que cor&lt;br /&gt;Cor própria&lt;br /&gt;Tua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E danças&lt;br /&gt;Pequena&lt;br /&gt;Abraçada&lt;br /&gt;Sozinha&lt;br /&gt;Acompanhada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;És toda música&lt;br /&gt;Solta pelo corpo&lt;br /&gt;Pelo corpo&lt;br /&gt;Que solta música&lt;br /&gt;Que encanta&lt;br /&gt;Sensual&lt;br /&gt;Centro da noite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Branca&lt;br /&gt;Tua pele&lt;br /&gt;Cabelos e boca&lt;br /&gt;Olhos, olhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pequena e única&lt;br /&gt;Brilhante solto no salão &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-1059780426761261794?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/1059780426761261794/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=1059780426761261794" title="5 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/1059780426761261794?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/1059780426761261794?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/11/brilhante.html" title="Brilhante" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SSHn-P0_1NI/AAAAAAAAC0o/oz30ubdWook/s72-c/208421974_1d15c440ef.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0ENRnc-fip7ImA9WxRWEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-4705673416471846800</id><published>2008-10-26T18:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:08:17.956-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-26T18:08:17.956-07:00</app:edited><title>Sonho acordada</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SQUUcFwSklI/AAAAAAAACzY/ptvCHgq1adw/s1600-h/boca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261634212465906258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SQUUcFwSklI/AAAAAAAACzY/ptvCHgq1adw/s320/boca.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já sonhei acordada com você&lt;br /&gt;E como criança quando dorme&lt;br /&gt;Quando perde o controle da boca&lt;br /&gt;A minha se encheu de água&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E sonhei como se encheria&lt;br /&gt;A minha e a tua&lt;br /&gt;E como nos beberíamos&lt;br /&gt;Senti teu gosto&lt;br /&gt;Sentiste o meu&lt;br /&gt;Teu doce-azedo&lt;br /&gt;Meu salgado&lt;br /&gt;E misturados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senti as consistências&lt;br /&gt;Menos e mais líquidas&lt;br /&gt;Senti o sabor e a temperatura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei com nossas bocas&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei com nossos líquidos&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei com o encontro delas e deles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, como estava acordada&lt;br /&gt;Ainda não despertei&lt;br /&gt;E sonho &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-4705673416471846800?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/4705673416471846800/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=4705673416471846800" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/4705673416471846800?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/4705673416471846800?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/10/sonho-acordada.html" title="Sonho acordada" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SQUUcFwSklI/AAAAAAAACzY/ptvCHgq1adw/s72-c/boca.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQFQH46eip7ImA9WxRXF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-902729117014612986</id><published>2008-10-23T04:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T05:51:51.012-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-23T05:51:51.012-07:00</app:edited><title>Amada distante</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SQByk-e3bZI/AAAAAAAACzQ/93bs3CHUtNE/s1600-h/barriguinha.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260330344342056338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SQByk-e3bZI/AAAAAAAACzQ/93bs3CHUtNE/s320/barriguinha.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;De joelhos&lt;br /&gt;Na tua frente&lt;br /&gt;Junto à cama&lt;br /&gt;Olho teus olhos&lt;br /&gt;Mas tu, superior&lt;br /&gt;Jogas o &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;corpo pra trás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem querer conversa&lt;br /&gt;Assim, pés no chão&lt;br /&gt;Corpo na cama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tua blusa sobe um pouco&lt;br /&gt;Mostras um &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;pedaço de ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um pedaço lindo&lt;br /&gt;Que me faz lembrar&lt;br /&gt;Que me faz sonhar&lt;br /&gt;Fantasias e delírio&lt;br /&gt;Quase descontrole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tua barriga...&lt;br /&gt;Clara, macia, aconchegante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Teu umbigo lindo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudade de minha boca&lt;br /&gt;Da minha língua por ele&lt;br /&gt;Lembrança doida&lt;br /&gt;Daquele dia&lt;br /&gt;Aquela noite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Champagne&lt;/span&gt; e uvas&lt;br /&gt;Lembra?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saboreá-las com teu gosto&lt;br /&gt;Passá-las em ti&lt;br /&gt;E só depois comer&lt;br /&gt;Passar em nós&lt;br /&gt;E só depois beber&lt;br /&gt;O champagne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;As uvas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teu umbigo&lt;br /&gt;Teu amor&lt;br /&gt;Teu corpo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora ali, próxima a mim&lt;br /&gt;De novo&lt;br /&gt;E tão distante&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-902729117014612986?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/902729117014612986/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=902729117014612986" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/902729117014612986?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/902729117014612986?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/10/amada-distante.html" title="Amada distante" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SQByk-e3bZI/AAAAAAAACzQ/93bs3CHUtNE/s72-c/barriguinha.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQGSHk_eip7ImA9WxdaEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-6806341392130628369</id><published>2008-08-19T16:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T16:08:49.742-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-19T16:08:49.742-07:00</app:edited><title>Hoje eu Quero Agora</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SKtSaFHa72I/AAAAAAAAAH4/Jyvxf641h8g/s1600-h/casal7a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236369599751712610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SKtSaFHa72I/AAAAAAAAAH4/Jyvxf641h8g/s320/casal7a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Hoje eu quero agora&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me selvagem&lt;br /&gt;Ou finalmente humana&lt;br /&gt;Consciência e desejos&lt;br /&gt;De animal reprimido&lt;br /&gt;Hoje estão soltos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não quero esperar&lt;br /&gt;Nada de me comportar bem&lt;br /&gt;Minha perna te roça debaixo da mesa&lt;br /&gt;A mão te procura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinta minhas pernas&lt;br /&gt;Venha com tua mão&lt;br /&gt;Não há nada&lt;br /&gt;Nenhuma obstrução&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não quero chegar em casa&lt;br /&gt;Já disse, é agora&lt;br /&gt;Assim, proibido&lt;br /&gt;Debaixo da mesa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-6806341392130628369?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/6806341392130628369/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=6806341392130628369" title="4 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/6806341392130628369?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/6806341392130628369?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/08/hoje-eu-quero-agora.html" title="Hoje eu Quero Agora" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SKtSaFHa72I/AAAAAAAAAH4/Jyvxf641h8g/s72-c/casal7a.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIBQn8yeyp7ImA9WxdUE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-7396378104811057312</id><published>2008-07-29T21:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T21:02:33.193-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-29T21:02:33.193-07:00</app:edited><title>Quando Acaba</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SI_nwgS9KWI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/rdp2gIWOzhI/s1600-h/245352_akt_-_heike8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228652512889612642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SI_nwgS9KWI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/rdp2gIWOzhI/s320/245352_akt_-_heike8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando acaba o momento&lt;br /&gt;Depois da excitação inicial&lt;br /&gt;De todos antes&lt;br /&gt;Durantes e depois&lt;br /&gt;Quando tudo termina&lt;br /&gt;Relaxada me sinto&lt;br /&gt;E solta assim&lt;br /&gt;Sobre a cama&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes, reflito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como é rápido&lt;br /&gt;Minutos, horas&lt;br /&gt;Tanto faz&lt;br /&gt;É rápido&lt;br /&gt;E mesmo sabedoras disso&lt;br /&gt;Sempre queremos mais&lt;br /&gt;Sempre queremos a próxima vez&lt;br /&gt;E essa vez vai acabar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não importa&lt;br /&gt;Vale pelo antes&lt;br /&gt;Vale pelo durante&lt;br /&gt;E vale até pelo fim&lt;br /&gt;Vale pela vida&lt;br /&gt;Pelo amor&lt;br /&gt;Que seja&lt;br /&gt;Mas vale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assim é a vida&lt;br /&gt;Minutos, horas&lt;br /&gt;E já acabou&lt;br /&gt;Mas vale&lt;br /&gt;Cada minuto&lt;br /&gt;Cada amor&lt;br /&gt;Cada tesão&lt;br /&gt;Cada arrepio de pele&lt;br /&gt;Vale a vida!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-7396378104811057312?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/7396378104811057312/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=7396378104811057312" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/7396378104811057312?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/7396378104811057312?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/07/quando-acaba.html" title="Quando Acaba" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SI_nwgS9KWI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/rdp2gIWOzhI/s72-c/245352_akt_-_heike8.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04FRn4_cCp7ImA9WxdVGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-4696825026056649958</id><published>2008-07-24T09:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T09:11:57.048-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T09:11:57.048-07:00</app:edited><title>Vem Agora</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SIiptq_1iqI/AAAAAAAAAEI/0gWReBxgBdo/s1600-h/famorTorstenBrand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226613969664707234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SIiptq_1iqI/AAAAAAAAAEI/0gWReBxgBdo/s320/famorTorstenBrand.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Tua aproximação me arrepia&lt;br /&gt;Chegas devagar&lt;br /&gt;Aos poucos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomas minha mão&lt;br /&gt;E, sem hesitar, a conduz&lt;br /&gt;Centímetro a centímetro&lt;br /&gt;A te sentir&lt;br /&gt;A te apalpar&lt;br /&gt;Sentir-te crescer&lt;br /&gt;E te fazer gigante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E esse roçar&lt;br /&gt;De peles e pêlos&lt;br /&gt;Aumenta meus arrepios&lt;br /&gt;Que se espalham&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto mordes minha nuca&lt;br /&gt;Sinto tua respiração quente&lt;br /&gt;E assim, arrepiada e nua&lt;br /&gt;Meu corpo não mente&lt;br /&gt;Vem agora e me possua&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-4696825026056649958?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/4696825026056649958/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=4696825026056649958" title="4 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/4696825026056649958?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/4696825026056649958?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/07/vem-agora.html" title="Vem Agora" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SIiptq_1iqI/AAAAAAAAAEI/0gWReBxgBdo/s72-c/famorTorstenBrand.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUGQ3Y9fyp7ImA9WxdVFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-6074885070390067212</id><published>2008-07-18T14:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T14:40:22.867-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-18T14:40:22.867-07:00</app:edited><title>Calor Escorrendo</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SIENtTcvIOI/AAAAAAAAAD4/9pVHoMxXB2I/s1600-h/seio-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224472114692563170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SIENtTcvIOI/AAAAAAAAAD4/9pVHoMxXB2I/s320/seio-thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;O calor toma conta de mim&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me fervendo&lt;br /&gt;Quase explodindo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando tocas meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;Quando sinto tua boca&lt;br /&gt;Quando sinto tua língua&lt;br /&gt;Por todas minhas partes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela toca meus seios&lt;br /&gt;Meus mamilos gritam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transpiro de prazer&lt;br /&gt;E sinto tuas costas&lt;br /&gt;Também molhadas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os dois molhados&lt;br /&gt;Prazer e suor&lt;br /&gt;Escorro e me derreto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É tanta loucura&lt;br /&gt;Quando te sinto nos meus meios&lt;br /&gt;Pingo, molho, me desfaço&lt;br /&gt;Como gelo derretendo sobre os seios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-6074885070390067212?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/6074885070390067212/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=6074885070390067212" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/6074885070390067212?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/6074885070390067212?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/07/calor-escorrendo.html" title="Calor Escorrendo" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SIENtTcvIOI/AAAAAAAAAD4/9pVHoMxXB2I/s72-c/seio-thumb.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEHSXk6eSp7ImA9WxdVEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-7359456554692261451</id><published>2008-07-16T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T08:37:18.711-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-16T08:37:18.711-07:00</app:edited><title>Consumação</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SH4VkF6RkaI/AAAAAAAAADw/-T6u5aUrRD8/s1600-h/monica%2520monimix.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223636327602426274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SH4VkF6RkaI/AAAAAAAAADw/-T6u5aUrRD8/s320/monica%2520monimix.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Depois de tanto tempo&lt;br /&gt;De tantas tentativas fracassadas&lt;br /&gt;Após todos os sonhos e planos&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente chegou o dia&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente a hora&lt;br /&gt;E estamos aqui, sós e nus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há mais nada que nos impeça&lt;br /&gt;Nenhum problema, nenhum contratempo&lt;br /&gt;Estamos livres, o tempo é nosso&lt;br /&gt;E palpito&lt;br /&gt;Anseio pelo segundo inevitável&lt;br /&gt;Tão próximo, cada vez mais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto o lençol sob meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;Acariciando minhas costas&lt;br /&gt;Emoldurando-me&lt;br /&gt;Tremendo comigo de excitação&lt;br /&gt;Sentindo comigo o momento próximo&lt;br /&gt;E aguardamos e sentimos&lt;br /&gt;Teu corpo chegando&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada centímetro&lt;br /&gt;Cada ponto que vai-nos tocando&lt;br /&gt;Em mim, no lençol&lt;br /&gt;Como um único corpo&lt;br /&gt;Acolhedor&lt;br /&gt;Poço de expectativas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada célula arrepia ao contato com as tuas&lt;br /&gt;E me preparo para o momento final&lt;br /&gt;Não mais toque, não mais superfícies&lt;br /&gt;Mas encaixes, profundidades&lt;br /&gt;Meu corpo engolindo o teu&lt;br /&gt;E me entrego para me entregares&lt;br /&gt;E te recebo fundo em mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E embriago-me na consumação de nosso amor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-7359456554692261451?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/7359456554692261451/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=7359456554692261451" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/7359456554692261451?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/7359456554692261451?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/07/consumao.html" title="Consumação" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SH4VkF6RkaI/AAAAAAAAADw/-T6u5aUrRD8/s72-c/monica%2520monimix.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAHQnwyeCp7ImA9WxdWGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-1265570742410333379</id><published>2008-07-13T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T08:58:53.290-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-13T08:58:53.290-07:00</app:edited><title>Pudores</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SHomK1IDuJI/AAAAAAAAADo/LZdlnM5fI8I/s1600-h/pudores.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222528685390936210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SHomK1IDuJI/AAAAAAAAADo/LZdlnM5fI8I/s320/pudores.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Não sei por que&lt;br /&gt;É difícil de explicar&lt;br /&gt;Mas, ao te ver, senti pudores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois de todo vivido&lt;br /&gt;De toda intimidade&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, quando saíste do banho&lt;br /&gt;Senti-me nua&lt;br /&gt;Como da primeira vez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que mais&lt;br /&gt;E me senti constrangida com tua presença&lt;br /&gt;Era como se fosses outro homem&lt;br /&gt;E eu, virgem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei explicar&lt;br /&gt;Mas aquela situação&lt;br /&gt;Aquela vergonha&lt;br /&gt;Inexplicavelmente me excitou&lt;br /&gt;Como da primeira vez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E com pudores e delícias&lt;br /&gt;Senti-me desvirginada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-1265570742410333379?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/1265570742410333379/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=1265570742410333379" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/1265570742410333379?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/1265570742410333379?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/07/pudores.html" title="Pudores" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SHomK1IDuJI/AAAAAAAAADo/LZdlnM5fI8I/s72-c/pudores.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AMQHw5cCp7ImA9WxdWFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-8248043489823627518</id><published>2008-07-08T17:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T17:03:01.228-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-08T17:03:01.228-07:00</app:edited><title>Toque</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SHQAH2onKmI/AAAAAAAAADg/1UcqLbDuMAo/s1600-h/seios%2Bmel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220798002954185314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SHQAH2onKmI/AAAAAAAAADg/1UcqLbDuMAo/s320/seios%2Bmel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Amo o toque&lt;br /&gt;O tato, a pele&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um fio de mel&lt;br /&gt;Escorrendo&lt;br /&gt;Ponta da língua&lt;br /&gt;Lábios&lt;br /&gt;Seios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pêlos quase imperceptíveis&lt;br /&gt;Excitados&lt;br /&gt;Quase de pé&lt;br /&gt;Precipitando o milímetro do encontro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E sente o mel&lt;br /&gt;No instante do toque&lt;br /&gt;Na boca, na língua&lt;br /&gt;Escorrendo&lt;br /&gt;Nos seios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O toque&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-8248043489823627518?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/8248043489823627518/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=8248043489823627518" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/8248043489823627518?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/8248043489823627518?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/07/toque.html" title="Toque" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SHQAH2onKmI/AAAAAAAAADg/1UcqLbDuMAo/s72-c/seios%2Bmel.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUDSXw_fip7ImA9WxdWEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1806759607683849850.post-2231062479484164025</id><published>2008-07-04T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T13:44:38.246-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-04T13:44:38.246-07:00</app:edited><title>Êxtase</title><content type="html">&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SG6JmEF17OI/AAAAAAAAADU/vC1NMUIQAHY/s1600-h/extase.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219260305195265250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SG6JmEF17OI/AAAAAAAAADU/vC1NMUIQAHY/s320/extase.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;E assim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Em estado de pleno êxtase&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Mantenho os olhos fechados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Sinto líquidos, aromas, suores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Sinto pedaços de amor no ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Texturas latejam minha pele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Minha memória no tato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Minha memória na saliva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Que ainda tem teu gosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Respiro fundo e sinto nosso cheiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Não é perfume, é cheiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Que só nós reconheceríamos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Meu coração volta ao ritmo normal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Aos poucos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Minha garganta ainda pulsa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Seca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;E, assim, sem abrir os olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Sinto o que é plenitude &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1806759607683849850-2231062479484164025?l=palavrassensuais.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/feeds/2231062479484164025/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1806759607683849850&amp;postID=2231062479484164025" title="8 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/2231062479484164025?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1806759607683849850/posts/default/2231062479484164025?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://palavrassensuais.blogspot.com/2008/07/xtase.html" title="Êxtase" /><author><name>Alexandre Spinelli</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13730161589978883567</uri><email>spinelli@spinsolucoes.com.br</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="12252756816921062678" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1lxrkgmaabU/SG6JmEF17OI/AAAAAAAAADU/vC1NMUIQAHY/s72-c/extase.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total></entry></feed>
