The kinky cleaner with a dirty mind
‘Get on the bed,’ I say, my desire taking control. ‘Lie down.’
I stare at his lean, muscular body as he clambers onto his bed. As much as I want to feel him inside me, I also want to prolong the build up a little.
And I do love a soixante neuf.
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I’m aching to pull his head into my soft mounds and his hips into my groin. I want to feel his hardness inside me, filling me, satisfying me. I want to grind my hot little bud into him until I reach the point of no return.
But I can’t.
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His cock is a nice size and I’m pleased he manscapes. His excitement is soon filling my hand but I don’t give him time to get too thrilled. I raise the paddle and land it firmly on his arse.
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Given that you’re now firmly out of the shoe box, I thought you might like to know what’s out there. It might surprise you to know there are many ways in which feet are adored…
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‘Why do you keep looking at my feet? I’ve seen you doing it several times today… what’s going on?’
‘I… I… I just think…’
‘What?’ I demand.
‘I just think…well… you’ve got beautiful feet.’
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He said he didn’t want to lose me. A lot has happened since the last time I was at Richard’s. We’d had a massive row and I almost walked out of his flat for good. Thankfully we sorted it out. He said he didn’t want to lose me. I’ve thought about that a lot over […]
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You may recall from my previous post about Jim that he’s very, very well endowed in the trouser department. You might also recall that he broke tradition last time and gave my minky a fabulous time with his tongue.
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