Cual Es La Pagina De Cam42's Profile

Languages: English & body language 😏

Location: in your dreams :P

Body Decorations: piercing (nose) :P

Smokes/Drinks: no/ coffee :)))

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Age: 29

Body Type: not bad 🤷😁

Cual Es La Pagina De Cam42 - Things are getting really wet.

. . she tries moving her hands but the straps hold her by her right hand. she is a sight to behold. She has long raven hair covering her shoulders, the most delicate part of her being. Her skin is the richest of all the women I have seen, tan in the best of weathers, glowing in the sun but never dull or even hot. This makes her smile. she is worn in by a work man. No coat, no tie, her eyes rattle as she passes out from heat exhaustion. In the back of her mind I hear a low moan. I look out the window and see her bent over the coffee table, legs splayed invitingly, a rolled up kimono on her night table. The outline of her folds obscures my view of her pussy, but I could see it with my naked eye. She is a young woman, in her forties, but still very attractive. She was last seen wearing a white g-string. The canopied desk she is standing on was hers. The white fabric is warm in the summer sun. The front is finished in soft red satin.

The back boasts a double row of red high heels, the red dangling in the air. She is perfectly poseable also. The feet of the desk are barely touching. Wrapped around her ankles is a thin cord. In it too, she was wrapped. Her head bows up almost to her shoulder. The gleam of black drawstring that covers her eyes was pointed up. She was not moving. Thinking back to the last time we met, I remembered how different our last meeting was from the last. I knew she had been kidnapped and could not tell. The next day would reveal itself. 45 am She was out and about doing her morning routine, eating her lunch at the office. I had not seen her in person for six months and was surprised when I drove by her driveway. I parked the rental car a couple of blocks away and went to the house through the open door. Inside, I called her mom. From a memory card I had retrieved from the computer.

I was shocked. I had never even talked to her. It made me furious. I had every right to be furious, but I was too nervous to make a scene and was instead vacuuming her basement floor. She wanted me to see the inners of the stairs. She needed to be. She climbed them. Her hands trembled as she pushed her skirt higher and higher. She stopped on the sixth step. She was suspended by the cleanest rope I had seen. My guess was that she was wearing garter and lace, and had buckled herself into a horse blanket. It was comfy, but more importantly it would keep her from cussing the neighbor. Once she reached the top step, I waited. She was almost there. With eyes cast down toward the floor, I followed her up the stairs. Her skirts were much higher, and I had an imposing height to gain as well. I followed her until we came to a large room..

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