Kittentia Streamate's Profile

Languages: Español - Ingles

Location: Colombia💛💙💖

Body Decorations: No

Smokes/Drinks: No/Si

Interested In: Women, Men, Couples, Trans

Age: 18

Body Type: Curvy

Kittentia Streamate - Blonde strips and start to play with her birdie.

You can hear the clothespins sound, realizing you've been put on your little slut. The room goes dark, time passes at a snail pace. The door opens, you can hear her work inside the door, footsteps softly scratching the walls. The padlocks sound. You can feel the touch of someone stroking your back, the back of your head remains still and the pace slows. You look up, to see a stretch of white blankets, crossed at the back, gathered at the shoulders, the door carefully closed, a cloth laid across your body for comfort. You feel a good rush of cold start over your cheeks. Wetness, staining the soft whites. The further you move, the further you hear her voice softly whisper into your ear, "You're Mine." You taste yourself in your cheeks. Coldness, a shudder runs through you, "…and just as I see that you are Me, you want to come." A soft smile crosses your face as you know that words are neither needed nor desired. With a bright laugh, you return to the comfy, slightly sweaty station. Your fingertips trail down your sides, softly brushing over your belly, down your breast to your now-damaged nipple, up your other breast, over your mound, carefully pulling out the most sensitive part. You let out a long, deep breath as you feel another rush of warm liquid run down your inner thigh. You fumble with the buttons on your jeans before you realize that the jeans are about to slide off.

You shift yourself, knowing that the liquid is running down your leg. You grab the side of your jeans and yank up, yanking violently against the cord between your skin and the fabric. The liquid, lube, glides smoothly over your skin, seeping down your inner thighs. You are wet. Coldness. "Oh god!" you moan, "Mercy!" "Hush, My baby." They are over, you softly mumble as you run your hands over your naked body. You feel good. Coldness. Light. The fullness of the cold nearly melts the heat of the liquid between your legs. You reach up and cup the warm cheeks between your scrotum's lips. You pull away quickly, not wanting another drop of the liquid to spill. You slick, you smooth out, cold, the liquid vanishing. "A good girl," I hear you say. I watch as you rub your hand between your lower back, under your neck.

My breathing is hard, lagging. "You are a good girl, my little girl." I whisper into your ear. "You are wet." Your hand rubs across my bottom. You know the pressure is there, you know I've been on you hard. You're surprised. And you're also horny. It's time. *Blushing* You don't remember me having a belly rub. And you certainly aren't dressed. I slowly push myself between my breasts, my nipples brushing against your own. I imagine if someone saw, they would see a beautiful dark satin triangle between my small, round breasts. A triangle of tight, beautiful, pale, silky curls wrapping around, joining at the temples. Even though your top comes up around your neck, you still feel the cool air breeze over your burning cheeks. "Mmmm, Aretha, you've got curves!.

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