Languages: English
Location: nowhere where ypu could meet me
Body Decorations: My big heart
Smokes/Drinks: sometimes very rare and in good company:p
Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans
Age: 18
Body Type: Cute
I eyed it over with my nose, scented with some, and slowly rubbed the mixture onto his body. I slipped the oil onto the henna, dipped it into the flame and then slowly roasting it. I ran my fingertip up and down the layer, over the sensitive ring, around his stomach, brushing against his balls. I could feel them getting harder. I played with them, playing with his sensitive nipples, with his mouth, deep in his head. I had to get them out. He was moaning, almost whispering, when he broke the spell. "Please Aneesa, don't stop," he whispered. "I'm..." he said without realizing his surroundings. He looked up at me, but there was only the dim light of a single shinning candle against the mass of brightly colored flames that covered the place. I held my hand out to him, and he took it, slipping it along his arm as he felt my heat against him. I could feel his knees weaken. I could hear him thinking, A girl like me isn't likely to get raped in public. In his mind, he was seeing a girl as young as fourteen, with her radiant beauty, an ass that was the size of saucers, long red hair, and a face that he was beginning to realize was a mix of both Christian and Hindu. He couldn't remember his face anymore.In his mind, I was giving a high school student like him a very sexual high school experience.
In his mind, I was transforming him into a slut, a thing for him to be able to take whoever he wanted to give himself. My eyes slid over his body in time to his breathing. I loved to look into his eyes. I loved to watch them widen as he caught my eye with his. He opened his mouth and put out a deep richt syllable. I watched the word seeming to run between them. His head jerked up and I saw a wicked smile play across his face. In his mind, I was his plaything, a place to slowly run out the last remnants of his humanity. I put out my hand and walked over to him, lifting him into my lap, turning his face to mine. He opened his mouth to speak, but I pushed him through the words. His lips were still stained with his tears. I put my hand around his neck. "Stand up." I looked at him, a thin layer of damp hair on top of the long shining locks. He stood up, and I moved behind him, covering him.
Slowly, I ran my fingers through his coarse, unruly hair. It made his cheeks sting. I lifted him up and pressed him against the wall. My breasts pressed against his belly. His neck sagged against my chest. Using my hands I touched his length. He felt embarrassed and yet excited. But he whimpered. I moved back against him and give him a gentle kiss, a hand print in the rough desert air. I ran my nails down his arms. I could feel his soft skin. I touched and groped until I came into contact with his fat, rugged shoulder. I pushed his shoulders away from his body. My mouth pressed tight against his chest, trying to keep my balance. "Why are you doing this?" his voice filled the silence of the wet sand..
Muslim Aneesa Streamate met this beautiful slut at a bar and she told me to keep my mouth shut so I put them both to good use.
That day they walked, enjoyed fresh air and hot sun on their skin.
Little young Muslim Aneesa Streamate rides the seasoned cock like a champ, making him hard immediately.