Needs more on her clothes. She’s walking home in them.
Lying by the side of the road, hoping someone will take her home with them. Instead of just using her and leaving her there for the next passerby. It’s idle hope.
The shiny, gold service tray is so the party go-ers don’t make mess on the floor.
She’ll be cleaning it with her tongue later. Much later…
No, the guy in the black trousers isn’t the one who tied her up. He’ll be dropping those trousers in a minute though.
Is it bad that I’ve fantasized about this? Guess I’m not the only one though.
So we got an njoy… Guess why this particular picture reminds me of it.
(And no, it’s not me in the picture, you perverts.)
If you look in the haystack that is my husband’s blog, you can find my ass in there somewhere. But be warned, 3000+ posts.
The other night we’d had broccoli for dinner. It tasted… bad.
"Personality" is your word-of-the-day. Now go find yourself a dictionairy, you need to know what it means.