His Eight Second Ride

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

Air hissed from my lungs when he cinched the rope tight around my ribcage. The binding rope wound around me high enough that it shoved my tits toward my chin, making a deep valley between my breasts. His dark eyes danced with the promise of what was to come. I couldn’t control the wiggle of my hips when he stood over me, shoving his large, calloused hand into the riding glove.

He’d kissed, caressed, and nibbled every nerve ending in my body for hours, but refused to let me release. A slick sheen of sweat coated my flushed body. I needed him inside of me and begged for him to do so, but his calm control held firm. I felt his naked legs against the outside of my thighs when he straddled me. My legs were pressed together between his, then he squatted down. Allowing his thick length to part my pussy lips as he rubbed himself back and forth without entering me. “Such a tight little saddle.”

Continue reading “His Eight-Second Ride”

Cowboy Summer

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

The summer air was electric with excitement as the rodeo rolled into town. As a local, I couldn’t resist the allure of the dusky arena, the smell of sweat and leather, and the raw energy of the competition.

That’s where I met him – the hottest cowboy I’d ever laid eyes on. Tall, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw, his piercing blue eyes seemed to see right through me. He wore his hat at a rakish angle, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he surveyed the crowd. I felt a shiver run down my spine as our gazes met.

Continue reading “Cowboy Summer”

Tie me up and rop me down

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

One summer, my family decided to take a vacation on this dude ranch out west. They promised fun and adventure, but I wasn’t about it. I hated the dust and dirt and didn’t want to wear cowboy boots. However, I had no choice. After a long drive and an even longer plane ride, we found ourselves in the middle of some rolling hills on a patch of grass that smelled like what you’d imagine a ranch to smell like.

I wasn’t a happy little camper, but then he trotted on by on top of his steed, and my whole body sang a new tune. He wore a black hat low on his head and dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. Even though I couldn’t see them, I knew he was looking right through me. He tipped his hat, and that’s all it took. I craved for him to rope me up and tie me down.

Continue reading “Rope Me Up And Tie Me Down”