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Eine Lieferung an Minderjährige ist nicht möglich
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Jesus. When my friend Marie showed me those pictures of our neighbor, Ricky Nicholson, I about lost my mind. I had no idea what a man he was. How large he was. I mean, I knew he was gorgeous, that all the neighborhood girls were ga-ga over him, with his chocolate eyes and thick chest, tanned skin, but if you had told me he was that BIG I would have called you a liar. But hey, pictures don't lie. And now all I can think about is inviting him over, spending time together. It's the only thing I can think about! I mean, how can you blame me. I'm thirty-eight, single, and I haven't been with a guy…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Jesus. When my friend Marie showed me those pictures of our neighbor, Ricky Nicholson, I about lost my mind. I had no idea what a man he was. How large he was. I mean, I knew he was gorgeous, that all the neighborhood girls were ga-ga over him, with his chocolate eyes and thick chest, tanned skin, but if you had told me he was that BIG I would have called you a liar. But hey, pictures don't lie. And now all I can think about is inviting him over, spending time together. It's the only thing I can think about! I mean, how can you blame me. I'm thirty-eight, single, and I haven't been with a guy in more than a year. I know it's crazy. I know I shouldn't be thinking about my neighbor's son like this. But after Marie shared those pictures, I just can't get the size of the situation out of my mind. The only thing left to do is invite him over . . . and see if everything fits!


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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