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ABOUT ME
š„µ Fuck What You Heard ā Iām Jen, 30, & Iāll Suck The Soul Out Your Dick Before You Even Say Please šš¦
Hey you. Yeah you with the hard-on readinā this.
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Iām Jen. 30. Not some prissy little princess ā Iām that messy, sweaty, āoops I forgot my pantiesā kinda bitch you donāt bring home to momma. š«¦
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Got soft curves from eatinā real food, tits thatāll smother your whining ass, and a mouth so goddamn wet youāll come just lookinā at it. My waist? Tiny. My grip? Fuckinā vice. I ride like Iām tryna break the saddle ā and honey, youāre the saddle. š¤ š„
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Now lemme tell you somethinā true. Somethinā that happened just last week when the whole world was meltinā...
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š”ļø Mid-Jan. Heatwave from hell. My AC? Dead as a doornail.
So this technician shows up ā not some skinny sweat-stain loser, nah. This guyās thick, bearded, forearms like hams. He walks in and my AC aināt the only thing about to get worked on. š
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I answer the door in a tiny wet tank top (no bra ā obviously) and these little shorts that might as well be a napkin. My nipples sayinā hello the whole time. Heās tryna be professional, checkinā the thermostat, but I keep āaccidentallyā brushinā against his tool belt. Drippinā sweat. Drippinā everythinā.
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Dude finally snaps. Grabs me by my wet hair, shoves me onto the couch, rips my shorts off with his teeth like a hungry dog. Then he buries his face between my legs ā and holy shit. Slobbery, loud, nasty head. Iām screaminā so loud my neighbor texts āu good?ā I didnāt even answer. I came twice just from his tongue. Then he flips me on all fours, and pounds me from behind while the useless fan spins above. I came two more times ā four total. He fixed the AC after. Barely. š¦š¦š¦
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Thatās the kinda fun I bring. No fake moans. No āoh youāre so bigā bullshit unless you actually are (and even then Iāll roast you if you suck). š
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I donāt do fancy dates. Donāt need dinner. Just you, me, a bed or a couch or a floor ā and a whole lotta bad decisions.
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Wanna feel my thighs shake around your face? Wanna watch me ride you ātil my makeup runs and your soul leaves your body? Then stop readinā and start typinā.
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TEXT ME. Donāt call. I wonāt pick up ā Iām probably busy makinā some other idiot see stars. But Iāll get back to you when Iām done. Could be 5 mins. Could be an hour. Deal with it. š
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šµ Payment shit ā read it or get lost:
Cash only. Or PayID instant transfer only ā if that shit says āpendingā or ādelayedā Iām not spreadinā my legs. Donāt even try. You send, I see the money in my account right then, we play. No exceptions. šø
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So go on. Text me your name, your age, and what the fuck you wanna do to me. Or donāt. I really donāt give a shit ā thereās five other guys in my DMs already. šš
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ā Jen š