Christmas Tree Carfuffle

Kayla 1844-332-2639 Ext 357

Okay, so it’s not December yet, but I wanted to put up my Christmas tree! I just think a good, well-decorated Christmas tree helps the Thanksgiving esthetic, ya know? But I am so tired of fake trees or the ones you buy from the fire station that are already dried out and basically a pile of pine needles on your floor. I wanted a healthy, hand-picked Christmas tree.

And I live close enough to the woods that there literally was nothing stopping me from going out and chopping down my own tree! I’m an independent woman who is so capable of something like that. So I put on my knee-high boots, the ones without heels, a flannel over shirt, cus it felt right, and off I went. Axe in hand, I was gonna get myself my own damn tree.

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Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357

Have I ever told you about when I went to pierce my slit? I mean, technically, it’s my pussy mound, but I was a little afraid and wanted to start somewhere safe. See, I’d heard if you pierce your clit you have like a fifty percent chance you could get MORE feeling in your clit, but the other fifty percent is that you could LOSE feeling!

Um, losing feeling in my clit is not something I want to risk, but the process was so unbelievably hot that it might just be worth the risk.

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RHIANNA 1-844-332-2639 xxx 253

But first,” he smiled, “champagne.”

In a moment he came back with a fine bottle of the bubbly stuff and without asking, used my sweet, hot pussy to pop the cork. He then brought the cork to his nose, “It’s always customary in my family to sniff the cork.”  “ Oh yeah?” I answered.  “And it’s always customary in my family to eat pussy. On with it.”

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Naughty Birthday Phone Sex!

Gianna 844-332-2639 ext 355

My birthday was two days ago on August 1 but I’m celebrating my birthday tonight with some sexy friends! I know that we’ll get real naughty as we’re out and about. My friends and I shut places down! I can’t wait to tell you all about the crazy things we get ourselves into!

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RHIANNA 1-844-332-2639

It was a hot afternoon, I mean really hot. The sun was blazing down from the sky like the proverbial motherfucker. Emma my sissyslut sidekick was behind the wheel fumbling through the radio stations looking for some road trip tunage. “Ooh,” she said stopping on the opening strains of “It’s Raining Men” by The Weather Girls. “I just love this one. Don’t you Rhi?”

I was like “nah,” and switched the radio off. “I’d rather listen to cum dry,” I said out of the corner of my mouth. “Oh such a spoiled sport,” Emma said before continuing to blather on. “Did you know that song was co-written by Paul Shaffer of SNL and David Letterman fame?” I didn’t know nor did I care, but rather then tell Emma that, I pointed out that we were running low on fuel and should look to stop for a fill-up. After a few more miles and more inane trivia…

 we spotted a small gas-station that looked like something out of 1970’s slasher film. 

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