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Eine Lieferung an Minderjährige ist nicht möglich
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With each passing hour, I find myself becoming more and more drawn to Jakethe way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the sound of his laughter echoing through the empty rooms, the way he moves with a quiet confidence that belies his gentle nature.
I know he's older than me... significantly older than me. But age aint nothing but a number, so they say. I wonder if he knows how I think about him all night. How I imagine him here next to me, his sweet breath on my neck as he whispers to me, as he tells me what he's going to do to me, how he wants me to call him daddy.
A next
…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
With each passing hour, I find myself becoming more and more drawn to Jakethe way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the sound of his laughter echoing through the empty rooms, the way he moves with a quiet confidence that belies his gentle nature.
I know he's older than me... significantly older than me. But age aint nothing but a number, so they say. I wonder if he knows how I think about him all night. How I imagine him here next to me, his sweet breath on my neck as he whispers to me, as he tells me what he's going to do to me, how he wants me to call him daddy.
A next door daddy. Imagine that.
I'm such a bad girl for thinking these thoughts. Such a bad girl for thinking about what I want to do with him. But he's just so beautiful. What's a girl to do?


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Autorenporträt
Back in high school I was what you might call a tease. Sure, I gave my share of BJs and hand jobs, but rarely did I go all the way back in those days. It was more fun for me to seduce the boys, get them as hot and bothered as I could, just to watch them ache. I loved more than anything to watch their expressions when I wore a skirt and would leave my legs open, ever so slightly, exposing just a glint of panties. Or when one of my tits accidentally poked out of my shirt during gym class. More than anything, back in high school I loved watching their faces as I was yanking them off, that old familiar grimace stretched across their faces as they'd explode all over the back seat of my dad's car . . . I suppose that's what I love most about writing erotica--the thrill of knowing that people are getting off on the stories I have to tell. I hope you enjoy!

I love hearing from readers!!! . . . you can email me at KPM@kimberleemadison.com