usukitomogara

[usukitomogara]

Especially on sultry days near the end of the rainy season like today, the flesh on both sides turns into an aroma diffuser of death. It is a an exceptionally hideous Oai odor, endlessly also emit and without Mokumoku, change and to hell with the interior space in a moment.

I am a serious, so-called wakiga. It is a wakiger.

If the maximum level of armpits is 10 and the power to bury a hamster in the armpit in seconds, I'm a fairly legendary category of about 8-9.

My half-life can be called a fight with my wakiga. When I was a teenager, I was worried about to die. After graduating from high school, I had apocrine gland removal surgery. It recurred in my late twenties. It became stronger and revived. I was worried again. Every effort was made, but in vain. With the years, the smell became stronger. Today, when I'm in my forties, this armpit has the strongest odor, but I'm not worried at all. I'm even thankful for being born in Wakiga. What is this change like?

It is generally said that there are different types of wakiga odors, but in my case, the rotten odors of milk, fish, meat and onions, urine, vinegared rice, mold, iron odors, all of which are left over. Is blended without. Approximately all the bad odors that a human can have are generously condensed into a certain gas. It is, so to speak, a Western music HIT compilation "NOW" in the world of wakiga.

The quality is high, but the quantity is great. The white T-shirt is yellow for both sides so that it doesn't last for a season. The gray T-shirt is sweaty before you leave the house. When I was delivering a newspaper, I sometimes delivered it by pinching the morning newspaper. Originally a highly absorbent newspaper, the thirty copies of the morning edition were all covered in sweat from the front page to the program table.

On a hot and humid day like today, I think it's a nightmare-like smelt.

As I continue to smell the same odor 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, I feel the stimulus is fresh, so it's easy to imagine how much hell someone else stepping into my wakidein range can see me to hell. .. Moreover, its power goes beyond mere "smell". The power of wakiga is supposed to be effective only against the nasal cavity, but at my level, the attack extends to the throat and lungs.

Since the apocrine glands beside me awoke and wakiga began to rage, people nearby were coughing violently. In a crowded train, in a classroom, at a convenience store, and as people pass by on the street, people cough with a few tears. A weak-legged grandfather with a cane blows his dentures, and coughs like crazy enough to pull his soul half out of his body. Of course, there is also the possibility of beliefs due to excessive self-consciousness. As a single hope, the logic is that the visual sensations rather than the odor, that is, the teratogenicity of my body, makes people dislike and consciously coughs as an expression. I had also assembled. But it was useless.

On the street, I once tried to overtake a young eagle worker who walked forward. The younger man began to cough violently when the distance gradually decreased and three meters left. With the same tone that I often hear on the train. The young man has not even perceived a pedestrian behind him. People were cruelly honest about the transparent gas of Wakiga.

Naturally, I was worried about to die when adolescents were concerned about the opposite sex.

When I was a junior high school student, every year the summer was approaching and I wanted to die from the end of GW. Finally, I decided to prepare for only Y-shirts. This is because the sweat stain becomes noticeable, as well as the smell becomes stronger. Like malnourished children in developing countries, or Pygmon, I always close my arms tightly, and when I pick up things, I move them only from the elbows. Such efforts were vain, and Amraco gals who were high in school caste sweared in the halls and so on, saying, "I'm really wacky, but w", and were given nicknames such as durian, kebab, and sushitaro.

It was winter, especially hell. Instead of worrying about sweat stains, Gakuran gives off a ferocious stench. It smells like a dry rag left in the shade for a week after wiping plenty of milk. Wakiga has no breaks. The thick cloth, Gakuran, has bad breathability, so I rather sweat. The sweat that has no place to escape evaporates, and the inner and Y-shirts function as a two-layer filter to filter, and high-purity wakiga extract is caught by the outer Gakuran fabric. In addition, winter drying causes bacteria to grow. The occurrence of violent stench is inevitable.

Besides, Gakuran doesn't wash so often. When I returned from school, I used water and detergent only on the side of the school run to wash my hands. It's something I'll wear the next day, so I can't just give it a fair sun. I have to dry it by morning. Therefore, after washing with water, I kept the dryer in the washroom for 2-3 hours. Finally, between the dryer and the cloth, it clicks! And when the blue lightning like Cherenkov light ran, I thought I had gone as far as possible. However, the effort was not rewarded, and the next day, the smell of detergent was added to the above-mentioned bad odor, which made people around him uncomfortable.

I decided to have an operation after having troubled myself to the point of mental collapse. Human relations are reset during the spring break after graduating from high school. I thought it would be the only time to do it. At the clinic in Ikebukuro, which is a comprehensive department store of plastic surgery, laser hair removal, chin excision, nasal prosthesis placement, silicone boobs, and almost anything related to beauty, shame the waiting room crowded by model-like sisters Shinobu jumped in. I made an appointment for the surgery day at the first visit without consulting my parents. My mother was an old man who never allowed me to put a scalpel on my parent's body. I have never confessed about wakiga's worries. However, I wonder if I secretly knew what I was doing, and when I showed him the invoice, he transferred nearly 200,000 yen without saying anything.

On the day of the operation, in the operating room of Norinori, where club music was played, the operation proceeded by a young teacher with a chara allback and a nurse in a pink nurse outfit sold at Don Quixote. Since I had a partial anesthesia, my teacher asked me about some wakiga while he was cutting the apocrine gland. It was my first time to confess to another person at this time, but it was easy to talk with a light teacher, so when I started talking, I could not stop. I felt comfortable as I was talking, and I had no surgery, so it seemed silly that I was worried about death. Sunny, I got the long-cherished odorless armpit that would not drop a single drop of side sweat even in midsummer. I suffered from complete numbness around the armpit and some numbness, leaving scars like swelling of the earthworm, but it does not hurt my life.

Having suffered for as long as you die can turn you over to what you love as you die. Shigeru Mizuki, the famous author of the manga "GeGeGe no Kitaro", lost one arm in Rabaul, the destination of the war in the previous war, and returned to life after nine deaths. Since the arrival of peace after the war, he has loved the land of the once-threatening Rabaul and has visited it more than 10 times. It's annoying to cite it, but about two years after I got an odorless wakiga, I fell in love with the wakiga that would have afflicted me once. To be precise, the smell of the armpits of women began to become extraordinarily excited.

When I was twenty, I miraculously had a girlfriend (probably kanako) and abandoned her virginity. Strictly not her, she is a woman who has sex. Not a sex friend. There is nothing to communicate with each other other than sex. It was like a human masturbation product where you would go back to TSUTAYA to return to the DVD and go home with a rusty mama-chari on the brakes when you went out to meet each other. To that proof, kanako appeared before me without much makeup. Even rice has never been eaten together. I don't mind this, I'll let you do it every time, and I thought I didn't have to worry about it.

More than a year after having sex for the first time, and when I don't know how many times I had sex, it's not uncommon to have a fellatio even when I have a fellatio. In such a case, I closed my eyes and said in my head, "The woman who is sucking now is Chun-Li, Chun-Li, Chun-Li, Chun-Li..." There are times when you look at it when you open it, fold up the newspaper, and raise your heavy waist, which can make you feel better, but it also becomes less useful.

One day, when sex was downgraded to act equivalent to dungeon and brushing teeth, one day when I went to kanako's room, I was wearing a sleeveless leopard dress like a primitive man's control and folding laundry. I was struck by the appearance of life and shabbyness. It is said that her husband got it in arcade. Thinking that I should go home and do wii's Zelda legend, I knew something instinctively when Kanako reached out to take Kabuki or take something from the shelf. Then, suddenly, I stopped looking at the mobile phone and turned my gaze to kanako. I stood up quickly. The armpit of Kanako who looked into suddenly had a little hair under her hair because of her daily laziness. I stay as it is! Yelled. Then, he approached and fixed the bottle-bottom glasses that were slipping down, and looked at it a little... seriously. In me, the sound of the earth started to sound. I took kanako's arm and opened her arm full. I desperately restrained my trembling arm to close it immediately. I had been overlooked until now. How beautiful...! Suddenly, the humidity was suddenly released. It was like a breath of spring under a cherry tree in full bloom. Kanako who shook Kabuki on the floor and trembled suddenly.... It's a revolution! Magma overflowed with a terrible explosion. For the first time in over a month, I slammed my One Piece and threw it on a futon with my princess hugging, holding my kana child hall violently. Hugged, sniffed, sniffed, hugged. While sticking from behind, I put my finger under my sweaty armpit and sniffed it. While covering from the top, the face armpits that made me live, buried my face under my armpit, licked Peron Peron, and screamed on my tongue were the drugs themselves. That night, as if I met him for the first time, he got crazy again and again. No, I didn't have time to wither. Even though I'm a woman who can eat Katsu-don while turning the TV channel, even if my boobs are blown out in front of me!

From that day on, waki became cheese-in-hamburger and kana became like parsley in me. On weekdays, if you can't smell under your armpit for a while, it becomes like a withdrawal symptom. Oh, I want to sniff and lick my armpit quickly. I want to see Wakiko. I'm almost suffocated! After opening the door of kanako's apartment for the first time in a week, it was as if a mid-distance runner had run 400m, and immediately, while being held by a coach, he was able to apply an oxygen respirator and breathe into his armpits with all his might. .. I was alive again, and my tears overflowed. Kanako was not a so-called wakiga, but when she sucked her nose against it, it smelled of a strange rotten smell. When I took a deep deep breath, the odor filled my lungs, and got into the bloodstream, my brain was stained pink.

At first, kanako showed a real dislike of being able to see and smell her armpit hair, and looked down at me with awake eyes while her face was buried. I couldn't respond even if I asked by mouth, so I had no choice but to take violent measures like rape. However, apparently it seems that this is a real pervert, or it is due to familiarity, I have obeyed obediently. In the middle of the foreplay, when I quickly sensed that I couldn't get up today with the intuition of a woman, I started to open myself. There may have been a case where he should get erected early in order to avoid the slight shock of not getting erected. My interest and demand for armpits increased day by day. By the way, kanako is a mixed race from Naha, it's a public image as if it's completely open, I'm one year older, sexual role is S, I'm M stakeout piston cowgirl (with me. It was a classic course to get fucked by the second joint of (Anal finger insertion). However, as for the armpits, I will be reversed to S, and kanako will be reversed to M (probably unwilling). Then I was instructed not to shave my armpit hair. The day before I met, I was instructed to never wash my armpits. I think kanako was horrible and obeyed because my eyes were so serious. I was surprised that I had the ability to train an older woman according to my taste. In the summer evening, kanako got into the doorstep of my house after she finished her tele-apo job, and I walked over and forced Kanako's frightened shirt off and banzai, walking from the station and still sweating. I caught the stuffy underarms that didn't pull, sticking like Tuchu Chupa Chupa, like an alien larva, and, as it was, poked into the back at the entrance. I'm already like a mother, I'm farting in front of people in public, there is a rubber mark on my pants on my stomach, I wake the kettle for the time being to get up, make a snorkel like an old man, It smells like a dungeon stewed overnight over low heat, soaks into the bar until late every night, and you're fishing for a man that you can choose, a woman like a rainy weekly playboy who can't stir up excitement. Against! Was it because I owned this woman that I had such a painful surgery for Wakiga?

It's funny, I think my thoughts were understood, kana grew up. When I was sniffed at my side and got licked, I got excited, my secret meat drooped like squid smoked, and the surrounding area was soaking wet with a soil-colored manko with perennial millet. In the end, I was messing with myself, and I licked it and even showed off my sides. But even beside that special presence, I wasn't excited for about three months, then I didn't see kanako, and I went into a long, long second virgin. I don't think human beings without human beings are endless. (In the news of the wind, kanako heard that five years ago, she was drunk and crossing the street, and was killed by a taxi. There was an idiot.)

Even now, even if I am just sleeveless, even an aunt in my 50's will come awkward, I will like girls who have a light smell on the side, and even if I see the word "woman's armpit" If not, the preheat mode will be turned on lightly. What was that talking about? Yeah, I was talking about my own armpit.

By the way, I had a surgery for wakiga, and I thought that I could live a life that was free from those worries. Apocrine gland (in my opinion, Moomin's Nyoronyoro) slowly revived over the course of about five years. I wondered if it would ever be removed again, so I grew up thicker, stronger and stronger than before. At the same time, the sensation of the paralyzed skin and the armpit hair that was partly shaved were restored with the same foot. The smell was stronger than before, staying in one place, and when I got lost in the forest, I went back by following the humbling silver fly. It was

Fortunately, however, science and technology have evolved over the last few years, and companies have found that antiperspirants are much more effective than they were in their teens. In the past, the only concept was to disguise it by applying a strong scent to the wakiga, but the mainstream was to remove the odor itself, such as the power of silver. Thanks to that, I was able to reduce the odor for about 8 hours during the daytime. If it smelled at the time limit during the drinking party, I should have done it like Cinderella. However, the effect seems to be effective only for the smell sensed by the nasal cavity, and it seems that the fine particles of the poison of Wakiga do not disappear. The crazy coughing around me was the same as before. But since it doesn't smell, the source couldn't be identified... In this way, I was able to live a group life in my late twenties and early thirties, without cheating or cheating, without being disliked by the open arms.

And last month, after I had been smoking cigarettes for the first time in my life, the smell became stronger. The deodorant stone, which is said to be the strongest in removing odors, doesn't work anymore. During the delivery of Uber Eats, I am waking up Wakiga to Max, while I am traveling around the crowded city, McDonald's, and each customer's house, so it is close to terrorism (only when delivering a kebab ).

But, as I said at the beginning, I don't really worry about my wakiga suffering from others. This is because the way of thinking has changed in the last few years. Let's go wakiga! I think positively. There was no need to worry and shame. If you think about it, I've done something awkward on my body. Putting a scalpel on the armpit and removing the apocrine gland is like a hedgehog squeezing all of the body's body. It's like giraffe getting surgery and shortening his neck.

The personal characteristics of the human body are always meaningful, no matter how negative they seem. Thanks to that feature, we have survived a severe competition for thousands and tens of thousands of years. In my case, I am today because I have inherited armpits for thousands of years and raised armpits. This odor is a height of art that has been honed and reached over tens of thousands of years of incredible time. If Wakiga was disliked in some generation and the apocryline was removed with a stone ax, my bloodline would have been cut off immediately. Besides, illusory is not ill, unlike illness. When a person is born, it is an Amazon-only initial purchase bonus ability that is provided as a given thing. I was convinced that the apocrine glands, which were still growing after inserting a female, had a tremendous necessity for my survival. To be honest, I'm sorry to do that.

There is absolutely no universal value. It just happens that a particular group of island nations in the Far East today are not accepting wakiga. It was swayed by a crowded train every morning, pushed into a small room all day long, absolutely obeyed the above command, and faced with the same human for a long time, which brought about the prosperity of the nation. Over a period of time, too much body odor was unpleasant. On the contrary, welcome conditions...Ikemen, high height, small face, slender, leg length etc. artificially created by Dentsu etc. as a value standard suitable for making people obedient and comfortable living in a group. People just take things and believe in them. What a person likes and dislikes is just one of the biased ideas of the myriad of options. The ability that is really necessary for an individual to survive is not something that others can arbitrarily decide. It shouldn't be easy to decide. You should listen to the voices of your ancestors who have survived the fierce competition for survival in your body.

As you can see, I always use the FANZA sample to make me squeeze in my female armpit licking video. In other words, I want to combine my own wakiga gene with the female wakiga gene to leave a species with a stronger wakiga for future generations. Instinct, not reason, encourages that. In other words, the will of the universe. Denying Wakiga is synonymous with going against God.

Indeed, Wakiga will ward off people with its unpleasant odor. But is it bad to keep people away or to be lonely?

no. Solitude is also a necessary condition for humans to survive.

What is the best preventive measure against today's raging coronavirus?

So far, you already know.

Humankind has been exposed to epidemics every few hundred years.

In today's information society, social distance is considered to be the best, and is transmitted to people. But what did humanity do before inventing letters and words?

There was no choice but to let the epidemic spread.

The distance between people was extremely high, and the mammoth BBQ way-way Leah was infected and died.

Meanwhile, there are some who have escaped the infection. It's the caveman who is always alone in a cave in the mountains, our progenitor, Wakiga.

Since ancient times, the Wakiga people have realized a social distance, whether they like it or not, by keeping people away with its unpleasant odor. And by being lonely, he has survived the epidemic of repeated plagues.

With the above, I tell Yukipoyo-like little girls.

What's important about after-corona is not good-looking, tall, small face, slender, or tall, nor do you have a hairstyle like a Korean-style idol and make a fool of way at Kawahara BBQ! Such is the illusion created by the ill-advised Adman, who forces Hakuhodo's two-block black-rimmed glasses, who extort the sense of being a Hinadan entertainer. They will eventually wipe out the green bubbles from their mouths and die crazy.

It's only wakiga, loneliness, that is, a man like me, that you should make your uterus squirm. If you were saying "I'm serious, but w" like you were at a convenience store, you're sure to be destined to regret it!

And one more important thing.

If any of your daughters had an underarm odor, please don't feel embarrassed. I don't want to apply deonature. I don't want a scalpel. It's worth more than Chanel's crap. Also, please do not shave your armpit hair. Because it is as beautiful as the wings of an angel.

Also, if you don't mind, please let my uncle lick the armpits. Ehe. I hope you squeeze it by pinching it on the side where the hair grows. Ehehe.

Thank you for your consideration.