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"Magical tongue" "mad oral skills" Been told i have a magical tongue. been told i have mad oral skills. I am looking to practice. You must be disease free and out of the shower clean. maybe we do more if you want. Just happens t hat I am well hung too. We meet in public after we chat a couple of times. And we go do our thing.. Real women only. If you are married or have a man but your man doesn't do this thean look no further. If you have a kid no problem we can work around the schedule. Real women please put "i would love to have you use your tongue on me" in the subject line Once we decide to ave your licked I can push u against the wall, kiss you, start to feel you up. I'll start to undress u as we make our way down the . Caress your body, feel how wet u are. Then lay you down, kiss your neck, then ur nipples, down to ur , to ur inner thighs, then tease u right before I like ur juicy pussy. I'll have u cum over and over. Then after ur satisfied, u leave. Can be a one time thing or ongoing. Must be discrete, clean, and disease free. Voice verify a must. No no reply. Age and race don't matter as long as ur sexy. I prefer (big butts and boobs a plus) clean bbw ok, kind of girls, don't have to be for me to consider you. I love to please, nice full lips, great ass and legs and yes i am well hung if you want that too. I'll send a back once I get . No men will consider a couple but only play for her.

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Offensive confession We met in one of those places that desperate, bitter men go to meet trashy, attention seeking women. People like to pretend that they frequent the damn place because the music is decent, the bar food is good, the game is on, the band is great or because "everyone goes there", but deep down they know the truth. You were different from the start and everyone knew it. You sat alone with the exception of whatever random asshole was begging for your attention. I watched for months as you sent each of them away... Not bitchy like most girls that think they're better than the men that lust after them... But with a kind of sweetness and understanding that I don't see a lot of anymore. And they were cool with it because you weren't and probably because you were one of the most obvious broken hearts any of us had ever seen. You dressed like a groupie straight off the bus of some rock band with bracelets to your elbows and those stupid fingerless gloves you wore if the temperature dared to go below 75 degrees. But you sat perfectly straight on the barstools and drank cheap beer with your up. Everyone knew you came from money without you ever having to say it. And after a while, I had to sit and listen to people go on and on about how smart and nice and beautiful and talented you are. Even from the idiotic cocktail waitresses that hated you on sight and changed their minds once everyone else started treating you like a fucking . You were a regular for a few years with less drama than most of us. We were friends. And maybe I told you once or twice that all I could think about when I looked at you was how bad I wanted to drag you into my bed and one night stand you until you couldn't walk anymore... But you made it clear more than once that you weren't interested in that kind of thing so I treated you like trash to spite the fact that you weren't. We argued a lot. And I liked that I could get you pissed off when no one else could. It was easy to imagine you that way though. Easy to you as the pathetic, attention seeking girl I needed you to be so I could whack off thinking about all the ways I would fuck you and then never you again. It was easy even after you got married to your perfect husband and had perfect and everyone talked about how happy you are now. In my head, you hated that life and were just looking for an excuse to screw around on a boring, workaholic husband that couldn't possibly love or want you. Every time you walk into that place without him I think about how I'm going to get under your skin and make you until you just run out of polite refusals and beg me to fuck you in the parking lot. One day, I tell myself. One day you won't laugh and walk away from me like you do everyone else. And I'm not going to treat you like you're perfect or beautiful or funny or smart. I'm going to see you as I want to see you, give you the kind of lay you've always wanted, leave you begging for more and then tell you that I've had better. That's all easy shit to tell myself. Easy until I saw you walking into a grocery store last week, holding the hand of a laughing, handsome kid around 4 years old. Your hair was in waves and fell to the middle of your back and I realized that I never really knew what color it was because I had never seen you in the sunlight before. You wore no makeup and the only jewelry to be seen was a little woven bracelet on your right wrist. I could see how blue your eyes were and you were smiling down at that kid in a way that I could never have pictured before that instant. But the punch to the gut for me was your dress and I'll never forget it. I had seen you in dresses before. Tight, black dresses. Unreasonably short dresses. Dresses worn over leggings with cowboy boots. Dresses that you clearly weren't wearing a with. But this dress was white. White with blue stripes and it flowed out at your waist, just above your knees. The blue top of it was some kind of old fashioned lace and the skirt looked it was soft, light... . I probably sound like an idiot, but seeing you in that dress finally allowed me to see you for what you really are. You are beautiful. You have eyes that light up when you're truly smiling. You are loving and you deserve to be loved. You yourself in a way that's so classy and eternally youthful. You are tiny and delicate. You look like you make brunch on Sundays and drink mimosas with your girlfriends while your play in the backyard. You look like you argue with your husband about his dirty socks during the day and snuggle up against him at night in , homemade lingerie . You are funny, smart, nice and perfect and you should be treated that way forever. You are everything I've ever wanted in a women. And me? Well. I'm just an asshole that spent so much time pretending to be too good for you that I never was honest about the fact that it's the other way around. And now it's much too late. Even knowing I will never have you, I still want you. Only now, I want to kiss those pouty lips in a way that let's you know how beautiful you are. I want to protect you. I want you to fall asleep on my chest and pull you closer if you get restless. It me that I will never be with you in that way. I'm sorry for pretending you were something you could never be. I'm sorry for being so selfish and so disgusting. I'm sorry for being just another desperate, bitter man treating you like another trashy, attention seeking girl that I could toss out after I got what I wanted. The truth is, I only told myself all that shit because it was a lot easier than admitting that I've been in love with you for the last 6 or 7 years. I hope your life is a happy one and I promise to do my best to make sure that you never have to see me again.

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