The Kept Woman: A Depraved Confession

Hello, you twisted scumbags! Guess who’s back with more twisted tales of depravity? That’s right, you’re in for a real treat—or should I say, submission?

Being a kept hottie has its perks, you know. While your wife’s at home, an old hag drooping like a sad saddle, I’m getting spoilt rotten. Cash in hand, feet getting kissed, and all because I’ve got the goods—big, perky tits that would make a pornstar jealous.

But let’s talk about your kinks, shall we? That ass fetish of yours is a real doozy. As my foot gets a kiss, your tongue works its magic upward—a pilgrimage toward my sacred snatch. You drool over my aromas, you perverted bastard, lapping me like a lollipop. The image of you kissing your missus with my juices on your face makes me drip even more.

But I’ve got a trick up my sleeve, haven’t I? A little ass action, a flick of the tongue on my booty holes, and your cock’s about to explode. Oh, and don’t forget the jerks—you love that, don’t ya?

Once your balls are aching, there’s only one solution—my tits! You get your fix, fucking them like they’re your very own plaything. And as your cock pulsates, spraying my cleavage with your man essence, I know you’re putty in my hands.

But the best part? When you lick me clean, you perverted puppy. That’s right, I own you, body and soul. And your wife? She’s just an afterthought, a milquetoast in the shadows.

This is what you live for, isn’t it?

Stay slutty, you hornballs!

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