xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208
A night out at the club was exactly what I needed to melt my stress away. I put on my slutiest dress and tallest heels, ready for a night of flirting, but then my boyfriend announced he was coming with me. My eyes rolled, but I agreed; I wouldn’t let a little thing like a “boyfriend” keep me from having a good time.
We separated once we got to the club. It was crowded, and music pulsed through the space like it was alive. I writhed with the rhythm and let the stress sweat from my pores. My boyfriend found me, of course, pressing his tiny hard-on against my hip as if it would excite me. Needing something better, I turned to another man who’d been eyeing me throughout the night. The tent in his pants was much larger when it pressed to my buttocks. “Hold my purse,” I yelled over the music to my boyfriend while shoving my clutch at his chest. Then I took Mr. Bigger Tent by the hand and led him to the bathroom.