Anul 1911 n-a fost lipsit de evenimente la Darabani. Acum îşi începea o fulminantă ascensiune politică avocatul Remus Bălănescu, cel care va rămâne de-a lungul vieţii un liberal convins, devotat până la capăt vechiului partid istoric. La 28 martie, acum un secol, este ales primar de Darabani, avându-l ca ajutor pe Ilie Ionescu. O demnitate în care se va dovedi extrem de energic, după mandatul său lăsând localuri de şcoli, îmbunătăţiri edilitare şi o revigorare fără precedent a vieţii publice. Nu întâmplător, cariera sa politică va fi încununată de câteva mandate consecutive de parlamentar, trecând atât prin Cameră, cât şi prin Senat. Numele său este deja legendar în conştiinţa publică locală. Avocatul parlamentar Remus Bălănescu este înmormântat, alături de soţia sa, în Cimitirul „Pace Vouă” din Darabani.
Tot în 1911 latifundiarul Ion Frank, care cumpărase moşia Darabani de la Ecaterina Golescu, îşi vinde întreaga proprietate funciară Casei Rurale. Era vorba de circa 5093 hectare, pentru care semna din partea Casei Rurale avocatul Marcel Opreanu, din câte se pare fiul lui Remus Opreanu, cel care prin 1878 venea la Darabani din partea Ministerului Justiţiei să întocmească un raport privind relaţiile interetnice româno -israelite. Cumpărările de teren agricol de către Casa Rurală însemna de fapt un proiect grandios al statului român: încercarea de a satisface, fie şi parţial, pe cale oficială, nevoia de pământ a locuitorilor de la sate. Lucru care a ieşit în evidenţă, tragic, de-a lungul anului 1907.
În fine, acelaşi an 1911 a însemnat din punct de vedere administrativ pentru târgul de lângă Prut, pierderea calităţii de plasă, din care mai făceau parte Păltiniş şi Horodiştea, Hudeştii Mari (actuala comună Hudeşti), Ibăneşti şi Suharău. Din păcate, frumoasa noastră aşezare a fost mai tot timpul în istorie la remorca altora, mai puternici. Până să devină actualul oraş, localitatea a fost când sat, când comună urbană sau raion, când târg sau oraş, tot aşa cum puţini ani, până în 1911, devenise „capitală” de plasă.
După acest an, până la reforma administrativă din 1950, Darabani va intra în componenţa plasei Lascăr şi, doar temporar, în cea a Herţei (1929 – 1932).
Articol semnat de Victor Teişanu în Mesagerul de Darabani.
Biserici dărăbănene de altădată
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“Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body. “Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.”
Daddy smiled and said, “ that is my good boy. Don’t even want to leave your daddy’s Ripe socks on the floor. That’s the respect I love boy.” I then was told to clean his left foot. “Scrub these whitish paste out in my toenails. I want you to smell and place them in your mouth and let me see.” Daddy commented. It smelled and tasted like Brie cheese. Then I moved my tongue in between daddy’s toes. I cleaned up so well. Just thought I was finished. Daddy said,” the sole is clammy. It has nature feet oil after a whole day in the shoes, you think you finished fag. Keep working on that.” I was surprised He wasn’t angry. He said,” boy you wait here, I am going to the bathroom.” He closed the door. He must sit on the toilet with pants down because I heard him losing the belt but didn’t hear him peeing. After a while, he called my name,” get in here ass sniffing slut.” I opened the door and crawled to the side of daddy. Daddy was still sitting on the toilet. . Just when I was confused why he sat that and did nothing. He stood up and pulled his pants up. I did take a peep of daddy’s huge uncut Middle Eastern dick. Half hard like 7inches already. While he was doing that, he grabbed my hair pushed right into the toilet, and closed the lid. “ smell my ass from there boy when it is still fresh.” He paused and continued, “ Don’t move.”
The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. “Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis.
“Stoke it, boy! Stroke it! Stroke that beautiful cock!” His father demands as his own cock draws on the wet interior of the glass enclosure shower. “Pound it harder, boy! Pound it harder!” “I managed to lift nearly two hundred today. I believe.” He explains. “But I strained a lot to do it. I was moaning. Groaning.”
“Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims. “It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains.
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“Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says. “This is what a man looks like, son.” His father says as his pants fall to the floor. From his waist out pops his representation of a 40-year-old-man. And father of two teenage boys. His cock.
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His bare ass melts to the lid of the toilet bowl. He sweats from the steam and the exertions from his continued pounding of the fierceness of his cock. He wiggles as his ass opens, squeaking on the plastic surface of the thrown lid, as he takes whiffs from the cum soaked pouch of the jock that covers his face. “And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.”
“Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.” Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol.
He reaches and lets his hand glide over his swelled cock. Tickling the head of his bulbous cock with his rough fingertips which sends electric sparks through him and down to his toes. “I knew ya couldn’t keep your hands off it.” His dad says. “Men can’t do it, we are drawn to our cocks, like a moth to a flame, and usually that burning sensation that a man feels is the cum boiling up in our balls. You know that feelin’ doncha son?”
“What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants. After I serve daddy’s left one, I was about to move to the right foot. While He stopped me, stood up, and walked towards the couch, he said “Crawling right after me.” I followed daddy. My nose was where daddy’s ass was. I was staring at that crotch while I was crawling, and I didn’t realize daddy stopped one of a sudden in front of the bathroom. My nose is slightly right into that dreaming ass crack.
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Garrett can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body. He does not hear the slamming of the front door. Neither does he hear the footsteps on the wood floor in the hallway. The shower drowns away all this noise.
He looks down. And then smiles at his dad. “Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters.
His father unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the bathroom floor. Where his son is like the mythical David, cast in stone with blonde locks and cherubic face. The father is dark and with a day’s growth of stubble on his face. “That you are, son. You are busting at the seams with your youth and muscles. Rippled from those vigorous physical workouts and stroking sessions. I bet.” His dad says. “You are gonna hafta to take care of that or you are gonna be miserable. You know that son, doncha. You know, I am right.”
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“I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom. Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.
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“What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face. https://arturzasada.pl/ – filmy porno “Yes, sir.” He says as he straightens up, standing erect as his member pulses to life between his legs, and in his father’s right hand, which are firmly locked on his balls. “Yes, sir, I do.”
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Daddy gave me a look implying his shoes are needed to be removed. “Can I take off your loafers, daddy ?” I asked so quietly. He looked at me and nodded. I took off both his loafers and put them away neatly in front of me. Daddy then raised his right leg and stepped on my forehead, pushing me down into his loafers. It is a mixed smell with sweat, testosterone, and leather. I couldn’t help but take a big whiff every time I breathed. “Hands-on the floor” he commanded. He moved his feet from my head to my hands. “Kiss them and make the stink goes away using only your fag tongue.” “Yes sir.” https://arturzasada.pl/ – sex porn mom He runs the towel through his curl-filled hair, and down over his chest, where the early signs of his manhood sprout like an uneven crop of hairs across his chest that run down to his furry-pillowed crotch. Where the throbbing from his hard-on springs back as the damp towel whips his erection back and forth with each swipe of the now dampened towel.
The one shower after his workout and practice had been a good start. But the walk home had tired him. But the massaging jets of water caressing across his muscular frame takes the weariness from his bones from this stressful day. polskie porno His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid.
“I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.” gej porno “Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.