Name: Anonymous 2008-05-29 0:09
The face is always a good place to start. Heart-shaped is a phrase that's been done to death but oh how it fits here. Heart shaped, definitely, with a tiny residue of baby fat in the cheeks, giving her the incarnation of poutiness that isn't annoying but instead one of the cutest things you've ever seen. Her lips are almost prim, untainted by makeup but still just full enough to make you want to lock tongues with her until you die of starvation or lack of oxygen. Her nose is big for her face, which only makes her cuter when it's combined with her eyes, big and round and amber. Her hairstyle seems to change daily, but no matter how it's done up the hair is jet black and loose. Beautiful, like the rest of her.
Now the fun part. Rounded shoulders give her what might be a petite figure if she weren't both too tall to be petite and too curvacious to be slim. Under that black shirt lie the most perfect C-cups on this or any other earth that rise and fall with each breath she takes, supported by any of black bras that I've observed shoving against the fabric, crying out "Quickly! I'm suffocating the poor girl, tear me off, now!" Below that you'll find the same slight baby fat of her cheeks, giving her a very slight adorable pudge that is quickly forgotten once you get down lower to her hips. Those groin-wrenching, unbelievably billowing hips that seem to have been meant for some black girl in a hip hop music video, but have instead found their way to a five-foot-six white girl with a habit of wearing the tightest jeans in the world.
And what jeans! Cocks across the world rise up in salute whenever she stands, and every eye in working condition is obligated to stare at that spot where the denim is pulled underneath the crotch and then to the other side where they grip her ass with such intensity that there is not doubt in my mind that those jeans are male. I desperately want to be those jeans, pressed tight against that unbelievable ass and the pink-and-black lacy thong I once saw poking out of it, hugging those hips and that ass and that pussy and those thighs and those legs for ten hours a day. If I could see that perfect body unclothed, even for one second, in all its beauty, I would die happier than any other man in history.
Now the fun part. Rounded shoulders give her what might be a petite figure if she weren't both too tall to be petite and too curvacious to be slim. Under that black shirt lie the most perfect C-cups on this or any other earth that rise and fall with each breath she takes, supported by any of black bras that I've observed shoving against the fabric, crying out "Quickly! I'm suffocating the poor girl, tear me off, now!" Below that you'll find the same slight baby fat of her cheeks, giving her a very slight adorable pudge that is quickly forgotten once you get down lower to her hips. Those groin-wrenching, unbelievably billowing hips that seem to have been meant for some black girl in a hip hop music video, but have instead found their way to a five-foot-six white girl with a habit of wearing the tightest jeans in the world.
And what jeans! Cocks across the world rise up in salute whenever she stands, and every eye in working condition is obligated to stare at that spot where the denim is pulled underneath the crotch and then to the other side where they grip her ass with such intensity that there is not doubt in my mind that those jeans are male. I desperately want to be those jeans, pressed tight against that unbelievable ass and the pink-and-black lacy thong I once saw poking out of it, hugging those hips and that ass and that pussy and those thighs and those legs for ten hours a day. If I could see that perfect body unclothed, even for one second, in all its beauty, I would die happier than any other man in history.