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Saturday, 30 January 2016

Book Spotlight: Wifey by Jenny Page Whittaker

Sally accidentally bumps into Bander Righthorn at Hornsfelt. It's a very hot August day so they find some wine coolers and a shade tree. Bander has his way with her and makes her talk dirty while he's doing it. Then he takes her in the Box ... 

… I meandered over toward Bander, and he did a double take, which made me blush.
I love it when guys see me and do double-takes, because I know I am fuckable. I’m sort of chubby, I guess you could say. My upper body is, like, perfect. Narrow shoulders. Normal arms. Skinny little neck that guys like to hold on to when they are, well, you know.
I’m nineteen years old, have a pretty face, a nice tan, and I am blonde all over, of course – which really didn’t matter because I kept my pussy nicely shaved.
I have a big fat bottom. I am not obese by any definition of the word, mind you, and did not like it when men called me fat. I guess my point is that guys really liked it once they were in my panties, per se. That’s all.
I was wearing a bright orange tube top today, and white skorts with matching white tennis shoes. I have smallish, but perfect water balloon titties that I knew Bander could see poking out through the tube top.
It was low slung because I had been walking around jigging and just didn’t feel like pulling it up. Basically, my titties were exposed if you wanted to think of it like that.
As I walked toward him, he was staring at my titties as they jiggled, and looking me up and down, obviously interested.
Then my nipples began to harden from all the attention. I couldn’t believe it. What timing!
Now I was standing very close to him.
“Do you know where the stamps are?” I asked him.
He shook his head like there were cobwebs in his brain, and continued to blatantly stare at my titties.
He shook his head one more time, really hard, and I was thinking about squinting at him, because, although I am sure he was reacting to my titties, I thought he should stop doing that in case store personnel noticed him checking me out.
Finally, he asked, “Do you collect stamps?”
“Huh?” I asked. “No. Not like that. I do rubber art stamping, with ink on birthday cards and stuff.”

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