Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

I have a confession to make – I am hopelessly addicted to spanking. I’m constantly begging my lovers “spank me harder!”  The rush I get from a firm hand smacking against my tender cheeks is nothing short of euphoric. My ideal fantasy is being bent over an armchair (I prefer wood or leather), my tight shorts pulled down slowly to expose my perfectly round ass. A gentle caress at first, admiring my curves, before an unsolicited spank snaps me out of my trance.

The first one never fails to make me gasp. My skin tingles, not in pain but anticipation of what’s to come next. Slap after slap, the stinging only fuels my ardor. Soon, my pajamas are noticeably damp. I crave the red handprints blooming across my firm globes, a badge of honor proving I can take it. By now I’m squirming on your lap, panties soaked through, clit throbbing for release.

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I love it when you’re rough with me.  All those things you do to make me feel weak and small compared to you.  When you slap my face, my pussy gets wet and soft.  I crave the feeling of your hard smacks against my round peachy ass.  But there is something that I love that borders on the edge of social acceptability.  I need the feel of your hands around my throat choking me until I squeak questioning whether you’ll let go or not.

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