happy weekend to all those that don’t work it! I soon will be heading off to bed to run the shit show of night shift . One must be well rested to be properly feral.
I
have loved my legs always I am of short stature and my legs are solid and strong. I can build them with ease. At one point in my life I was able to leg press over 500pounds
I am not a runner - never was never will be, running is so BORING to me but I would ride my bike, climb a sand pile, walk the pastures, and lift weights the power of weightlifting shoots my confidence sky high.
age has slowed it down some I know I will never get to leg press that amount ever again- knee and hip injury, but I will keep riding and lifting and kicking ass.
not too bad for 50
Your grip on my thighs dig deep.
Muffled growls and deep moans.
Little nibbles, sucking and proding
My back arching hips opening
Up for air, licking your lips
Inner thighs bit and sucked leaving little devil kisses
Diving back in, tongue flicking, teeth biting.
“Oh Fuck” I gasp squirming
You growl and bite me, warning me
You burrow your face in more, if that is even possible
Hands clasp my hips pulling me tighter
squeeze my thighs against your temples
Sending me to new sensations
My body pulses, I bite my lip, fingers dig into the sheets
Sucking pulling licking
Moaning, growling, crying out
So fucking wet
Filling your mouth
Sweet nectar finally released
Licking lips
Fed and happy
Running hand over mouth, sighing deeply
Able to taste me all day
Sitting at my console, sipping my coffee, looking out into the darkness . Contemplating future plans…. I know that I can now see myself moving from here.
never let anyone EVER let anyone extinguish your fire. Never again.
have a great morning my kinky peeps
GIOOD FUCKIN MORNING ALL YOU KINKY PEEPS! Time to set shit on fire! 🔥
Love ya all xoxo
why are women called chicks?……
is it because we lay eggs
OR
OR
that we love cock?!?!
She’s sits bound in blue ropes. Her eyes covered in silk.
Music plays. Her head tilts to a somewhat familiar sound. “Click click”.
The scent fills the air, she whimpers as her pussy drips.
He watches her, sitting so proud, hands clasped and tied to her thighs so beautifully in candle light.
He puts the cigarette between his lips. The Bic ignites and the flames makes the paper glow. He inhales.
The blue grey smoke curls, dancing in the flickering candle light. He takes a long draw, exhales away from her,
she perks up more when she hears him approach her head moving around as if she was able to see where he was through the silk.
He brushes the back of his fingers along her cheek. She presses into his hand. He smiles silently.
She felt her heart leap when his hand brushed her face, the lingering scent of fuel and grease danced along her senses.
He took another drag, exhaled slowly, allowing time to press his thumb to her lips, she eagerly opens her mouth biting softly on his thumb
She held his thumb between her teeth, her tongue swirling the calloused skin as if were the tip of a cock.
He growled deeply, she smiled. He pulled his thumb away, she was about to protest. He quieted with a tisking of his tongue.
She loved to taste his skin. And began to pout when he pulled away, but the stern “tsk” caused her to pause the protest.
He leaned down to her face hovering at her lips. He inhaled her scent of multiple cums and her body wash. His mustache brushed her lips.
She sat up and giggled as the mustache tickle her nose and lips
He smiled cupping her chin tipping her face slightly up and covered her mouth with his, and with a hunger deeply kissed her.
A deep moan passed her lips as she tasted the cigarette kiss, his tongue prodding her mouth, sucking her tongue. She felt warmth spread in her cunt. She tasted him. His life his being. The scent of cigarettes.
He held the back of her head keeping her steady as he mouth fucked her with his tongue, she wiggled slowly side to side. Mmmm he knew she was soaked
He pulled her into his chest, her forehead resting on his chest. She pressed her face into his soft worn leather vest, inhaling and sighing deeply.
A cigarettes kiss, and the warmth of worn leather.
Ropes are the extension of you my Master. I am your Muse, dance your art across my flesh.
With your skilled hands work the lines, lashing them at my ankles, thighs, waist and chest. Cinching them tight, drawing breath from my lungs, feel me quiver.
You place your hand to my chest, my rabbit's heart beating wildly. Lean to my ear “you are mine” you whisper. My body settles.
Your rugged hands move lightly across my flesh, melting to a tender touch. I ache for your ropes, your marks.
Pull me in , bind me, own me, claim me as yours.
A little update on my physical journey. Down another pant size Scale has not changed weight at all . Legs are powering up Chest is ever so perky and I got a dump truck ass!
