Chatear con hombres de 30 a 40 años de Punjab (Pakistán) gratis

i m zaib khan from pakistan looking a women for good relation

this is shafique from pakistan i join this site for making frandz i realy enjoy withh new frandz

hi my name is sarmad and I'm a from paksitan (Lahore) and I am almost 16 and looking for a Lahori girls I hope I will find some : I am little bit romantic

I m romantic.Beauty seeker. Want friend who is sincer.Caring.Want mobile chat..

hi my name is alishah i am good man i am not bad man plese come friend ship me

i'm nice friendly and love making person looking for love girl

I'm a software developer and looking for friends from Canada.

meet me if you want to know more about me, conóceme si quieres saber algo más de mi.

Open minded. Having some rules. Give respext and take respect. Love to be loved.

i am true sincer like good best peoples who sincer

I am complete graduation from Rajiv Gandhi Proyodhgiki Vishva Vidalya Bhopal Bachelor of Engineering and I am secure 67% in graduation academic I am schooling pass secondary in 65 % and higher secondary secure 58% academic.

hy m mian saqib from Pakistan m simple m searching a girl for good realtionship

I'm an introvert scientist and looking for a friend or relationship

I wonder what our bedroom would be if it were a body part. The spleen comes to mind, an organ so forgotten nobody can remember what it does. I looked it up and the spleen filters bad blood as it turns out. That’s about right, more often than not, we argued in bed instead of, and then you bought the big TV. ‘Who puts a screen in their bedroom?’ I asked you. ‘Couples with,’ you replied, ‘You know.’ Or couples without. Prepositions were often missing their nouns in our relationship. So many people turned up for the housewarming party, old neighbours and new, and your colleagues from work, remember? You were a popular man, the best of. I was carrying a big pitcher of margaritas to the back garden. I wonder if anyone actually likes those, the snot-like mixture that smells vaguely of poison, acidic dreams and delirium. Time seemed to flow differently in the new house, leaking into all the new rooms which didn’t quite understand their purpose, and weeks were punctuated by new purchases like semicolons, separating one arbitrary chunk of life from the other. You brought another painting home that day and told me it would hang on the top of the stairs, and I nodded. You unwrapped it and stepped back to join me, but I wasn’t looking. There was a gold smudge on the lapel of your shirt. ‘What’s that?’ I asked. You turned your head to examine it, which gave you a double chin. ‘It’s eye shadow,’ I added, you looked away to the glass door, and your eyes drowned in light, extricating al