Krysta 844-332-2639 Ext. 410
We met at the gym. No, I wasn’t working out! I was going to the tanning booth. They let you have unlimited access to the beds when you have a gym membership, which I don’t but the guy manning the front desk lets me suck his dick for a little UV light time.
Anyway, the gym was where I met Mr. Hotstuff. He was tall, handsome, and covered in sweat, just the kinda guy I like to turn into a Daddy for me to play with. He couldn’t resist my giggles and pigtail twirling, he asked me out for dinner that night and of course, I agreed.
Mr. Hotstuff? You Mean Mr. Wetstuff
He was even sexier when he picked me up for our date. I rubbed my hands along the sleek leather seats of his car as he drove us to the fancy restaurant. Inside we were chatting and laughing. Everything was going great until dinner came.
I prefer men to order my food for me. Not that I’m incapable but I like how it feels. They have to pay attention to my likes and dislikes, they need to be detailed and prepared. Oh, and it makes me feel like a princess. I helped Mr. Hotstuff with my order but as the plate was set before me, it was clear he didn’t pay attention.
I started to tell him how I felt. How he’d messed up and I wasn’t pleased. His huge six-foot-something frame seemed to shrink in on itself and his cheeks got super red. He was so embarrassed over my raising my voice and now people were looking at us. He wasn’t speaking to me which made me yell louder and then I smelled it. I lifted the table cloth and looked between his legs to see a massive puddle under him and his jeans soaked from the crotch down.
Mr. Hotstuff had become so embarrassed by my telling that he was now Mr. Wetstuff! I couldn’t contain my giggles as I pointed at him and announced his accident. He looked at me with pleading eyes and I then noticed he was also sporting a massive boner. Oh, the rest of the night was gonna be fun!
Krysta 844-332-2639 Ext. 410