Thirst For Seasoned Seeds

Kylie Rocket always went for guys who had their shit together—graying temples, luxury whips, crisp suits. Growing up she stayed inside, books over boys, barely stepping out on weekends. Now she's headed to college and ready to raise hell. The night her folks throw a little gathering she spots you, way cooler than the rest of their crew, and exactly her type. She slips into those low-cut booty shorts and a tight crop top, shoots you that look when you come over to say hi, slides her hands right up under your shirt and whispers for you to follow her to her room. The second the door shuts she slams you back against it, grabs your hands and plants them on her tits, clutches your bulge through your pants, then kisses you like she's been waiting years. Voice low and greedy she tells you straight up she wants you to empty your balls inside her so she'll never forget her first older guy.