Are you looking for some over sized baby clothing to wear? Well, probably not, but some people are! And… there’s a website for it.
Isn’t he adorable? Those nice fleece pajamas and the giant stuffed animals? And is one of those stuffed creatures Tommy from Rug Rats? I think so!
This is me, bringing you fetishes from all over.
Wear trousers, get fucked. A simple equation, but it worked for Emily.
Jeans were a possible, as long as they were tight-fitting. Her baggy cords were a probably not, unless he hadn’t seen her for a while. But the black trousers were a near-certainty.
There was nothing amazingly ‘fuck me’ about them, they were just plain black, close-fitting polyester trousers, but Emily knew how much they turned Jamie on. If she wore them, and he saw her wearing them, he simply couldn’t keep his hands off her.
When she asked him why, Jamie said it was simple. Jeans or cords were an obstacle. With trousers made of cotton or polyester, the material was thin, so when he sidled up behind her he could grab hold of her bum and feel the outline of her knickers beneath. A short, flimsy skirt was even better, he said, but not always practical.
Emily’s perception of the trousers changed completely once he told her this. Before, she’d thought of them as just semi-smart office clothes. Now if she wore them to work, she found herself walking around with a secret confidence. She became conscious of the thin, sheer fabric clinging tightly to her legs; imagined his eyes on her wherever she went.
Even better, Jamie left home each morning before she was dressed, so Emily could put the trousers on without him knowing about it. If she feared the day at work was going to be dull, she could fetch out some of her sexy underwear, slip on the black trousers, and counterbalance the boredom with anticipation.
A little knot of secret excitement would form in the pit of her stomach as soon as Emily put the trousers on, and the fact Jamie was oblivious only served to intensify that feeling. Her expectation would build through the day.
Sometimes it would get too much, and Emily would find herself sneaking off to the toilets mid-afternoon. Locking herself into a cubicle, she’d slowly unhook the fastener and slide the zipper of her trousers open. Imagining it was Jamie’s hands rather than her own, she’d reach inside her panties, seek out her pussy with her fingers, and rub her clit hard against her pubic bone for the few fast strokes it would take to make her come.
The last couple of hours at the desk were thus rendered more tolerable, and if she timed it right, by the time she’d get home her anticipation would have built to the brink again.
That particular evening Emily was in the kitchen, ostensibly preparing dinner. She made sure she was standing at the worktop, facing the wall. With her back to the hallway, she knew that when Jamie walked in the first thing he’d look at was her arse. Once he did that, he’d see what she was wearing and, well, dinner would have to wait.
After a few minutes, Emily heard the front door being unlocked. She heard the sound of it being closed again, of keys being put on the table. Then nothing. Emily waited. She became vaguely aware that Jamie was now in the kitchen with her, but she refused to turn around.
Suddenly she felt him there, behind her.
“You’re a bad girl, Em,” he said quietly. “You know what happens to you when you wear those trousers.”
As his body pressed against hers, Emily thrilled to discover he was hard already. She smiled in anticipation.
“I know what happens to you when I wear these trousers,” she retorted.
Sliding his hands around Emily’s waist and under the hem of her top, Jamie didn’t waste a moment. Searching for the clasp of the trousers he begin to unfasten them, kissing the back of her neck as he did so. A surge of pleasure coursed down her spine and through her crotch.
Easing down the zip, Jamie let her trousers fall open. She felt him slide his hands inside, over the firmness of her belly. From the top of Emily’s thighs, either side of her knickers, he pushed his fingers round, forcing the trousers down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor.
Kneeling behind her, Jamie ran his fingers up Emily’s bare legs until they encountered the start of her panties. With his right hand he lifted them, holding the material to one side to kiss her bum, pressing his mouth against her naked flesh, pushing his face into the curves of her arse. His day’s growth of stubble grazed across the smoothness of her bum and the friction sent another shiver through her.
Carefully, almost respectfully, Jamie freed Emily’s feet from the crumpled heap of her trousers. Then he pushed her legs apart slightly, enabling him to twist below her and raise his head up to between her thighs. Forcing her knickers aside, he began to go down on her, further moistening her already slippery cunt, searching out her clit with his tongue as his fingers ran up inside her knickers to explore her arse.
Emily felt her pussy getting wetter, and readied herself, sure that Jamie wouldn’t make her wait much longer. Almost immediately, he reached round and up to take hold of her panties, dragging them down to her knees. Returning his mouth to her cunt, Jamie continued savouring her, lubricating her, and then he quickly unbuckled his trousers and wrestled them off along with his boxers. Emily watched as he slipped out from beneath her. Wearing only his shirt, Jamie moved to stand behind her.
With his hands on her waist, Jamie manouevred his rigid cock into the crack of Emily’s arse. She exhaled as he pressed himself hard against her, and again as he began kissing her neck, his hands forcing their way up under her top to find her tits. Pushing his hands inside her bra, Jamie groped Emily’s breasts, as he slowly ground his dick between her ass cheeks.
Still exploring her tits with one hand, Jamie began snaking the other back down Emily’s stomach. She shivered at the feeling of his fingertips gently brushing against her skin, moving down over her ribs, her belly, and finally the start of her pussy. Then he veered away, returning his attention to her hips instead. She felt him grab at her ass, then wrap his fingers around his manhood and guide it down between her buttocks. Emily adjusted her feet slightly, spreading her legs in anticipation.
Jamie stepped backwards briefly, and Emily listened with a mixture of desire and frustration as he began playing with himself. As he increased his tempo, she could feel hers building too. Emily closed her eyes as Jamie’s unoccupied hand moved down across her arse and between her legs, insinuating his fingertips along the slit of her pussy, searching out her rock-hard clit.
She opened herself to him again, demanding him, and in one move, Jamie pushed forward and slid his shaft between her pussy lips. His fingers dipped down to stroke her clit.
“Oh God,” Emily gasped as he drove himself into her, “Oh Jamie!”
Harder and harder he fucked her, deeper and deeper. Pushed up onto tiptoes by the force of his thrusting, Emily tried to stop herself, to hold on just a little longer till the point that Jamie exploded between her legs, but it was impossible. Her orgasm overwhelmed her.
“Fuck,” Emily whimpered as she started to come, softly to begin with, then suddenly intensifying. “Oh fuck, Jamie! Come inside me! Please, Jamie!”
Burying his cock into her cunt, Jamie held onto Emily as she twisted and writhed. Her pussy wall tensed and shivered around his shaft, and finally, as she reached the peak of her climax, Emily got what she wanted. With a stifled moan, pushing her even more forcefully against the worktop, lifting her off her feet, Jamie erupted inside her, his spunk spurting furiously up into her deliciously wet pussy.
Emily trembled, lost to the sensation of Jamie emptying his load into her. She loved it that he came so hard for so long, loved that she could make him lose control just by wearing those trousers. His heart was pounding as though it might burst. Perhaps the black trousers should come with a health warning, she smiled to herself.
Gradually his convulsions slowed, and he relaxed his hold on her. Her feet touched the floor once more, and she felt his cock begin to soften. As his warm, sticky cum started seeping down her leg, Emily felt the trousers on the floor next to her foot. She quickly kicked them away across the kitchen floor.
“What are you doing?” Jamie whispered.
“Saving you from yourself,” she replied.
Given what they did to Jamie, it was probable her black trousers would end up spattered in his cum one day soon, but Emily wanted to keep them pristine for as long as she could. She’d not found a suitably flimsy skirt yet…
by eleanorofa
The other day, I received a message from a very polite fellow on okcupid worrying about his recently developed cuckold fetish. Here is an excerpt from his message:
“Somehow, it seems I’ve developed the cuckold fantasy, or some variant thereof [...] And I can’t tell whether it’s the intense attraction to a strong woman, to a conquering woman or to a woman whose sexuality it just plain old uninhibited (isn’t this the fantasy of many guys?), but it’s become real enough that I wonder what the heck is going on. It’s also become so real that when dating women, I kind of drop mild hints about it. […] And I think of it less and less as a fetish and more and more as something I just want in a relationship. Could I be wrong? Could I be really wrong and missing something? Is it an eroticized fear? I don’t know, but it’s something that’s been on my mind for a while, and I’m beginning to wonder what’s up, and how it’s become such a dominant theme.”
So first off, let’s attempt to clarify what a cuckold fetish (which I’ll abbreviate as CF) is. As it happens, I’ve examined CFes a fair bit because my husband myrlyn kept claiming he doesn’t have one (I think he’s right). Classic CF goes like this: man (usually married) wants his female partner (wife) to go fuck other men and Dom him. In real life, this tends to include things like sucking another man’s come out of the wife (“clean-up”), being told that the other man has a bigger cock, and engaging in foreplay with her before she goes to have sex with another man. On fetlife, nearly 3,000 people list themselves as “into” or “curious” about cuckoldry.
I want to be really, really clear here: classic CF is not inherently polyamorous. It is neither poly nor mono, it is primarily submissive. People who occasionally indulge a CF are quite likely to be poly, since they’re already in a context that readily allows for it. CF lifestylers (that is, married couples where only the wife sleeps with other people and doms her husband in the process), on the other hand, I think less likely to be poly, since the CF mindset is more oriented towards monogamy.
Now because my querent implicitly brought it up, (“And I can’t tell whether it’s the intense attraction to a strong woman, to a conquering woman or to a woman whose sexuality it just plain old uninhibited”) I’m going to attempt the nearly-impossible and probably somewhat pointless task of disambiguating cuckold fetishists from what I call slut fetishists. In my opinion, slut fetishists are the polyamorous version of cuckold fetishists, but since a large number of cuckold fetishists on fetlife (who are almost certainly not a representative sample) identify as poly, I might be wrong. Slut fetishists get off on having partners who are sluts. This can include watching/listening to/and/or hearing about their partner having sex with other partners, getting gang-banged and/or participate in orgies. In my opinion, slut fetishes are more polyamorous than cuckold fetishes, but many slut fetishists may also be swingers.
Keep in mind that the most powerful sexual organ is the mind, and what is, by all appearances, the same sexual act and experience can change drastically depending on the context in which it is enacted. Consider a man going down on a woman: is he dominant or submissive in this act? The answer, of course, is that it depends on how he does it. Slut fetishes and cuckold fetishes may look identical from the outside, but the emphasis in the former is sexual pleasure and even possibly the woman’s submission to it, and the emphasis in the latter is the man’s submission and humiliation. They are not really mutually exclusive: in a single memorable evening, my husband and I managed to pull off both. He sent me off in grand slut fetishist style by stripping off my clothes and instructing me to inform my (now-ex) boyfriend in the guest room that “I sent you like that.” Then he received me back in cuckold fetishist style by having me sit on his face. It’s all about how you do it.
And now to directly answer some of my querent’s concerns: is there anything “wrong” with CF? No, not any more or less than women having rape fetishes. Desire is culturally constructed and culturally constrained, and the same cultural norms that have traditionally given men ownership of women have also produced men who eroticize the transgression of those norms. Indulging in CF also gives plenty of women the satisfaction of appearing to conform to ladylike norms of monogamy while actually getting plenty of cock—a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets, as it were. Is CF an “eroticized fear”? I’d say for men it’s more an eroticized inferiority complex, but essentially, my answer is yes. Is that a problem? I don’t think so. Especially since there are plenty of gals out there who would just love to fuck your ass with a strap-on because your dick isn’t big enough for them and they’d rather their boyfriend did them… hmm… that sounds pretty hot to me, actually
As for my personal two cents, I tend to be suspicious of most “lifestyle” arrangements. I totally respect people’s right to them, but I don’t really understand how a 24/7 power imbalance “works” for people in primary or monogamous relationships. On the other hand, I don’t really “get” monogamy either, so I know I’m a weirdo. I personally would be happy to be part of lifestyle cuckold arrangement with a secondary partner, but that’s almost inimical to the fantasy, which focuses more on transgressing marriage norms.
But I do have a few cautions. First, if it’s a lifestyle arrangement you want, you would probably be better off recruiting potential partners from fetish conventions and websites than pursuing regular dating venues and just hoping for the best. Second, spend a lot of time considering the kind of lifestyle you really want. For example, would you be upset if your wife wanted an emotional relationship with men she was fucking? If the answer is “no,” then you can marry a poly woman, if the answer is “yes,” then you’d better not. Finally, keep in mind that even cuckold fetishists can get jealous. Because so much of CF is about D/s dynamics, you can accomplish a great deal through some really dirty talking that can remove some of the actual complications of your wife actually having sex with another men. For example, how would you feel if she became pregnant and you weren’t sure who the father was? Don’t pretend like that can’t happen, and don’t embark on a lifestyle arrangement without addressing issues of birth control and STI protection first.
If it’s safe, sane, and consensual between two or more adults, I say go for it. And good luck.
The thing about writing a blog is that there’s a written account of things I meant to do….or things I wish I had never done….but most often of things that make me look a fool. It’s not a talent, mind you, I am just naturally foolish. Foolish and not very shy. Case in point, my ambitious rule of the PTA bulletin board at Gavin’s school. Have I busted out my brilliance on a bulletin board display to date? No. Have I displayed my Christmas wish list in the hopes that PTA members will buy gifts for me? I haven’t, but there’s still time. I haven’t even emailed committees about their stupid upcoming events. Nope. I wait until the PTA Head Mistress emails them and copies me on it. And then I respond by telling her what a good idea that was. I’m probably really letting down that group of dads calling themselves W.A.T.C.H Dogs, but I don’t need a random collection of dads watching my kid or promoting themselves as “good” role models. Puh-lease bitches, y’all need to be watching the street out front and keeping rude parents from stopping IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET to pick up their kids.
I’ve also written about my vibrator a ridiculous number of times. In fact, it’s one of the most used tags on my blog. Douche, humping, nipples, porn, ass, and balls are the other big ones. Obviously, I need to vary my vocabulary but nothing else seems to have the power to convey my true feelings about a douche quite like the word “douche” does. But I’m open to suggestions. Sadly, Shakira, My Little Pony, and Ice Road Truckers are the terms that generate the most hits on my blog. To be honest, I’m a little concerned about the My Little Pony fetish that seems to be happening.
And just when I think I’ve shared enough embarrassing stories about my life with you, my memory and inability to filter my writing in a more appropriate manner prevail! I wish I could stop myself RIGHT NOW but that’s not going to happen. Instead, I’m going to tell you about the time when Tom and I were dating and we were invited to a holiday party. It was early in our relationship and though we had known each other for years, I hadn’t met most of the people at this party. And if you didn’t know before, I have a slight issue with control. Issue as in Janet Jackson is constantly singing about it in my head, complete with synthesized percussion. Yeah, that’s right, I made an obscure 80’s reference…that includes a Jackson. Suck it, bitches.
And so in wanting to know everything that might possibly happen at this party, I asked Tom what kind of party it was going to be. He was like, “What do mean? It’s just a party.” Clearly, that wasn’t a thorough answer. So, I asked, “Are there going to be any girls kissing?” WHAT?! I know, I can’t believe that was the question I thought would give me the best indication of what to expect at a party. Not, “Should we stop and get a bottle of wine?” or “Is this see-through shirt appropriate?” No. I basically wanted to know if I was going to get drunk enough to go Katy Perry for the night. But I JUST wanted to be prepared. New groups make me nervous!
Long long ago in a deep darkly wooded forrest, a young rabbit girl was on a journey to find some poison berries. This was of course, when the rabbit and wolf peoples of the earth where dominant species. On her way to a particular stretch of wood where the rare poison berries grew abundantly at that time of year, the rabbitress was spotted by a fiercely strapping and viscously cunning wolf boy, now waking from a short spell of hibernation and achingly hungry. Quiet and cautiously he stalked her on her path, drawing near and nearer to her as she trod hopingly along the forrest floor. As he stalked closer and closer he became more and more enchanted with the quirks of her merry bunny way, singing to herself quietly and jumping merrily with her fluffy bunny bottom shaking adorably behind her as she went. He prowled and stalked, closer and closer until anti-climactically he howled out rather shyly, “pardon me miss, do you know the time of day per chance?” In a sudden move to make small talk as apposed to devouring her. She looked up at the sun to check the time, confused and rather taken aback by his sudden emergence from the wood, but as she looked back to him she became entranced by the handsome lack of ferociousness in the charming look he gave her. Forgetting his question she respond timidly, “excuse me”, he then burst forth with some meaningless small talk about the great abundance and variety of mushrooms abound in the forrest that year. Before the two of them knew what had happened they had fallen madly in love, and tried desperately to conceive a child together out of the immense adoration that without warning had befallen them, being only slightly saddened by the lack of conception. Their love for each other was so grand and profound that soon all the other bunny and wolf peoples got wind of their great and epic love for each other, and began more commonly seeking out such previously unthinkable relations. Specialty establishments began popping up all over the forest, catering specifically to this new niche of singles night life. Eventually it seemed, the trend grew so common for bunny and wolf peoples to mate, despite the obvious lack of offspring, that to see a bunny with a bunny or a wolf with a wolf, was considered ultra passe and unfashionable, and as the years went by a general decline in the genetic diversity required to continue each species as such occurred, so they slowly devolved into what we now know as the common bunny and wolf. Though every now and then in the declining forests, one will see a bunny and a wolf getting on rather oddly well, and those in the know smile at the remembrance of the old wives tale about the great love between the bunny girl and the wolf boy.
This 3 part blog entry regarding the true “costs” of raw eating has not been easy to write.
Are you spilling over with appreciation for my offerings? I hope so.
Please post a comment. Even if it’s just to say “get over yourself blog-face,” or “please stop.”
For me the issue raised in part 1 is settled: Raw food doesn’t have to cost any more than maintaining your beer gut on the Standard American Diet (SAD) does.
Dealing with food cravings/addictions can be an epic struggle (see part 2). I don’t know what to tell you about that except that I agree with Scott Peck…”Life is difficult. So what?”
I also feel you regarding the social ramifications. No one wants to be known as the perpetual party-pooper who puts the nut back in health nut. That’s why, ultimately, only you can decide just how much raw you can handle.
But before you do, let’s talk payback…
Part 3
WHAT IN THE WORLD DO I HAVE TO GAIN FROM EATING THIS WAY?
Energy
Sun Power!
Serious, power a small city, build bigger pyramids, apply for the “HELP WANTED: SUPERHERO” position advertised on craigslist, kind of energy. I have never felt lighter or freer…EVER!
You’ve heard raw food zealots talk about it, try it for yourself and see why so many athletes are turning to a diet high in raw foods to give them a competitive edge. ULTRA-MARATHONERS are eating this way! When was the last time you ran 100 miles?
Mental Clarity
I don’t know that I can convey how clear my thinking becomes eating this way. There’s a precision and depth to my thoughts that I DO NOT experience when eating cooked foods. Some might even refer to it as
Whose more "in the moment"? Kids or dogs...
spiritual. I’ll skip that label and just say raw foods are very expansive…
Addicted No More
Three weeks ago I was addicted to food, alcohol, and caffeine. No other way to call it. I was. I don’t necessarily mean in the “I better get to a 12-step meeting” kind of way. I mean how most of us are addicted to these things that should enhance our lives but for many don’t.
Having a couple beers with your friends is nice. Sitting alone and spending your insomniacal hours working on a case of beer isn’t.
A glass of wine with your pasta dinner can be a beautiful thing. Eating whole pizzas because your bored and drinking 50, 75, 100, or more drinks per WEEK…not so pretty.
The simplest, fastest, most effective way to break your food/booze/caffeine cravings is to go 100% raw with a focus on green foods. Doesn’t have to be forever, but give your body the break it deserves. You will be surprised by how effective green foods are at combating your addictions.
Transcendence
It feels kinda cool to transcend food. Best analogy I can think of is the totally in-control bartender who doesn’t drink himself…
So much of modern life can feel out of our control. And it sucks to feel like you are always letting yourself down and breaking your own promises. I gotta admit that I feel a sense of power being able to go to work in an Italian resaturant and bar and only eat tangerines on my shift while everyone else is eating pizza and getting drunk.
One man–a diabetic–comes in every night and drinks two or three bourbons while chowing down on minestrone, a caesar salad, a basket of garlic bread, a heaping plate of chicken alfredo, and some cheesecake. All while lamenting how cursed he is to have diabetes! It feels good not to be that guy.
Healthier Every Day
I remember literally feeling like every day I woke up my health was deteriorating markedly. It really blows to be only 36 years old and huffing and puffing up a flight of stairs.
So many of the ailments people “come down with”, “contract”, or “suffer from”, are 100% avoidable. Please don’t take me as some kind of jerk who is going to insist that all sickness is self-made. I don’t think that at all. But most of the everyday “conditions” we live with are. The guy I mentioned who comes into my bar every night…he CHOOSES to be a diabetic. One month eating raw and he’d be a different person and he would NOT be a diabetic.
Another example of the health benefits of eating raw is how totally it covers all the bases. I was in the health food store the other day waiting for my fresh watermelon juice to be made. So I decided to walk around and look at the shelves. Two thirds of the stores shelves contain vitamins, powders, supplements, tonics, etc. TWO THIRDS! I had a funny reaction–literally–and started laughing out loud. It all seemed so ridiculous. None of those pills are going to fix anything. Total waste of time and money. Let alone pharmaceuticals…
Natural Weight Control
Oprah and Ricky can talk all they want about the need for heavy people to accept themselves and the evils of a society obsessed with being thin…it doesn’t change the fact that none of us want to be fat!
If you read my Fat Kid Suit story you know I grew up being a fat kid in a fat family. It sucked! You know why I think people dislike being fat the most? Because all those layers are proof that you are hiding shit and that your thoughts aren’t your own.
Have you watched the Biggest Loser? Ever see people cry that much? Even for reality TV these “losers” are shedding more tears than I thought humanly possible.
Being fat is not congruent with any kind of personal authenticity. When I’m fat I start avoiding eye contact. It’s a terrible terrible way to be and while I’m all empathy about how hard it is to make up your mind to change it, it’s 100% on you. Eating raw has helped me quickly realize that, and I no longer want to abdicate my responsibility to and for myself.
If you haven’t tried eating 100% (or at least mostly) raw yet, you may not believe me when I tell you that eating raw is NOT a diet. And I hope you know that I don’t mean that in some cheese-ball marketing sense. It simply isn’t a diet. I’ve lost a lot of weight already, and I have NEVER ONCE thought about a calorie, a carb, or wondered how many fat grams I was eating. NEVER EVER do I tell myself I shouldn’t have seconds or thirds of anything.
I pour the olive oil on THICK! I eat a whole avocado as a snack. I lick honey off of spoons. The other day I got a massive pineapple and ate the whole thing for lunch. You know those a-holes who say that drinking fruit juice is the same as drinking soda? I drank a quart of fresh pressed seasonal apples juiced into a cloudy lover of a concoction that zinged in my mouth and sweetened my soul like no other…yeah it was that good. My body SOAKED it all up into my cells which collectively broke out in song. And guess what? It wasn’t the Coke song.
Sex
Oh, NOW you’re paying attention! Yeah sex. That thing you try and squeeze in between cocktail dreardoms and buffet bellyaches. Only a very small group of fetishists find belching and food induced comas to be a turn on.
You know what’s really sexy? FRUIT! Farmer’s markets are the new sex shops. I don’t mean you have to use the fruit that way, just eat it. And then let all that stored solar stuff of life bump up against some other radiant beings overflow. In other words, sex is better the more raw foods you eat.
NO idea who this guy is, but HE'S got the right idea!
Having that youthful raw foods “glow” and lightness of being make you FEEL sexy at any age. That kind of confidence and feeling of self-worth is the only real aphrodisiac…
The Environment & Animals Everywhere Will Thank You
This one is obvious to most people. I’m not going to get all science right now. There are tons of great resources out there regarding the undeniable connection between what we eat and the environment. If anything, I’m sick of the words “green,” “sustainable,” “vegan,” and “carbon footprint.” These are becoming marketing buzz words, overused, and to me they are often elitist terms with very little real world application for the majority of the worlds population.
I wasn’t attracted to raw foods for ethical reasons. If anything I’m a borderline Nihilist who is completely A-political. But, what we do most of the time makes the largest impact in our personal lives and on the human family as a whole. Eating less meat and dairy has a far greater impact than driving a Prius does…
I’m not an “animal lover,” but the more raw foods I eat the more empathy I feel for animals, other people, and myself. Having apparently turned my hatred toward plants, I’m now regularly butchering papayas the size of infant children and braining coconuts to get at their sweet innards. You can’t please every species all of the time I guess. Besides, the other day when I drove by a small farm, the chickens waved.
My Conclusions
I’m sure there are heaps more benefits that I don’t even know about yet. I’m only just beginning with all of this. Three weeks in I’m loving the results and wanting more.
Can I do this 100% of the time? Probably not. And I don’t think that’s what matters anyways. But I can see myself mostly raw from here forward.
Your Input
What are some benefits to eating raw that you have experienced and that I failed to mention? What percentage (roughly) of your diet comes from raw foods? What do you like/dislike about the raw food movement?
PLEASE comment and join in on the discussion!
P.S.
Tomorrow I weigh myself and will post the result of week three’s weight loss. All while NOT dieting. So please check back for that and more!
Thanks!
Pretty red lipstick, and finger nails. Your face is all made up, with a blonde wig. Now get that mini skirt, those thigh highs, that red bra and panties and those stilettos on, so I can pimp you out my pretty little slut. I have big plans for you.
I am taking you down to the basement where I have your party planned. Your cumming out party. It’s for us to pop your cherry!! Open up slut boy,there cumming in your little man pussy and your mouth. Go get your phone so we can start your party!
Nikki
1-877-770-7021
www.accomplicenikki.com
Aim or Yahoo: AccompliceNikki
My kitchen was raided today. One of my mates brought his film crew round to shoot a scene in my kitchen for thier Bolex film. After the highs and lows of my production [check back for a full story] it was nice to see another group get into the swing of it and help out here and there. I don’t know much but the story is about a guy with a fetish over hair and we see him live through his everyday life, collecting hair and being “odd”.
They had to film a dinner scene involving 3 characters and the main, 2 played by friends of the crew and Josh pictured above enjoying dinner whilst the main sat and drunk his milk. It was very surreal but good fun watching pasta fly all over the place and trying to remember how much milk was in the glass.
I hope everything works out for the group, it sucks having everything just go wrong in front of you, so wouldn’t want them to go through what I am at the moment. But check back and ill hopefully keep everyone informed of their progress and see the final film!
D
This is the BEST Way to find the Sexiest and Horniest men and women in your area!!
Looking for a casual fling, a HOT and Horny Sexy Session with absolute pleasure and orgasm!!
Or just sexy chat and private show webcam.
This is just another way that the Adult Arcade is bringing you the best Adult stuff on the web to keep you Happy!!
SO CLICK ON THE PICTURE NOW!!!
For the Best SEX on the web
