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Presidents day

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  “I c'n nod stell a lie, im zzzrunk,” she slurred, smiling, a can of beer in her hand. “A-Aria,” you stamered her name trying to sound stern, as her big boobs jiggled in her blue cotton bikini bra. The panties, featuring a matching white floral pattern with some dark blue leaves, ride high on her hips, and cling to her but. Her skin glistens from the heat of the house on the otherwise cold President’s day. Aria wobbled slightly as she leaned against the counter, her golden hair tied up in a messy ponytail that somehow made her look even more effortlessly beautiful. The can of beer in her hand tilted dangerously, threatening to spill its last few sips onto the kitchen floor. “I can not tell a lie, I’m drunk,” she giggled, her voice warm and slurred just enough to make it obvious. You took a cautious step forward, eyes scanning her face — flushed, glowing, carefree. “Aria…” you said softly, trying to sound stern, but your voice cracked a little under the weight of the moment. “You ...
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Valentines day

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  Emily, your gorgeous valentines date, blonde hair high on her head in a pony tail, wrapped in a backless crimson slip dress that barely clings to her curves, leans against a table in the near empty restaurant. Her thigh peeks through a dangerously high slit, the hem riding up her round ass, revealing her black lace panties. She leans on the table. She is drunk, loving it because you love her drunk. Drunk on Emily In the sultry glow of her apartment, Emily stands before her vanity, the fairy lights weaving a seductive halo around her reflection. Her heart thunders with a heady cocktail of anticipation and raw desire, her skin prickling as she imagines the night ahead—Valentine’s Day with you, the man who sets her body ablaze, especially when she's lost in the euphoric haze of alcohol, her inhibitions dissolving into a pool of wanton need. She drags her brush through her damp blonde hair, the strands gliding like silk between her fingers, before sweeping them into a high, sleek po...
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Tropical 2

 Part 1  https://stumblingfillies.blogspot.com/2023/02/tropical.html Part 2: The sun cast a molten glow over Natalya’s bare skin, each droplet of water shimmering like liquid fire as it clung to her curves. The world was a feverish blur, her senses submerged in a heady cocktail of rum, weed, and the pulsing, sensual rhythm of the R&B track vibrating through the air. Her head spun in a delicious spiral, the intoxication wrapping her in a warm, velvety haze, every movement slow and syrupy, as if she were swaying through a dream. The poolside was her private sanctuary, and in this moment, every thought dissolved into a primal thrum of desire. Her fingers quivered as she fumbled for her vape, the device nearly slipping from her grasp before she brought it to her lips, inhaling deeply. The sweet, earthy vapor curled through her, stoking the fire that burned low in her core. Her cocktail glass, slick with condensation, wobbled in her hand, the ice clinking as she took a long, ...
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