Ahotwish Imlive's Profile

Languages: Spanish/English

Location: Medellín, Colombia

Body Decorations: Tatto & Piercing

Smokes/Drinks: Occasionally

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Age: 21

Body Type: Curvy

Ahotwish Imlive - We offer her some company.

Which is good for her and us. *kiss* Oh, thank you. For what." The next day, we dined out. The festivities continued. We bought a lot of things. I drove a pink Mercedes Benz, while her hand lingered ever so lightly on my leg. It felt a little awkward, but she knew she could handle it. It was an interesting time. The men she talked about were cool, and the men she talked about were cool, at that moment. She was comfortable enough to be embarrassed about her looks, but confident enough to be scared about how she'd look. As she often did. She found men, perhaps out of her own personal shame, and she found them attractive. They were nice, tall, well-muscled. They had an almost sneered air about them, which she magnified in her increasingly exciting situation. She pondered on it for a moment, and concluded that they were more likely to play with her, or at least tease her, without asking about her physical appearance.

She was no longer embarrassed about her looks; to be honest, she enjoyed them far more than her modest image deserved. It was liberating, in a way. It freed her to be herself, to be in control of her own destiny. And she was so damned happy. The next day, she had to deal with two new social events that day. The first was a shopping mall. The pinkish tinged flesh of the flesh of the flesh of the things she owned, whether she owned them whole or in pieces, stained the air. She kicked and punched a wall, and couldn’t help staring at the white men who frolicked freely between her and these women. Their movement, their breathing, their eyes, her. She was fascinated. She knew that in some way, they were a reaction to her own nervous and erotic self. The flesh they covered and grazed upon was more erotic than the concrete, brick, stone of the men. She idly wondered what it would be like to be their slave. Would it hurt or was it beautiful? Would it all… the beauty of naughtiness and sweetness of not knowing… the open question that was her only strength.

It seemed to elude her. Then, at the meat market, a lovely black stallion walked. She knew he was Ahotwish Imlive, and why would he be here. She bought a small dildo, and put it in her hand. She rubbed it against herself, and imagined him pleasuring her in the same way she had pleasured herself on the cock that had fed her so many times before. She wondered if it would do the trick. She thought so. It didn’t take. He walked up behind her. His breath on her skin electrified her. She flinched and squeaked, and her breasts heaving in front of him. “It feels lovely,” he murmured into her ear. “But there is something you should know…” “Yes…” she croaked. “I know.” “But I can’t promise it’s all nice and smooth!” “No, I think I can.” “I think we both know” “Please don’t talk to me about it…” “I don’t…” “You know what you do to me?” “Yes,” she said. “I know you do’” “Please don’t talk to me!.

Pictures of Ahotwish Imlive

Videos of Ahotwish Imlive

Related Models