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Kylie – Hipster Honey

Hipster Vixen

Hipster Honey

Lives: Allentown, Pennsylvania; Occupation: Record store cashier; Age: Twenty 3; Born: September 30; Ht: 4’11”; Wt: 98 pounds; Bras: 34C; Panties: Knickers; Anal: No; BJs: Drink; Masturbate: Daily!

“There’s some phat shit coming up in Lehigh Valley compared to just a pair of years ago,” Kylie told us. “But, for the most part, it’s still marvelous boring. I’ve been thinking about moving to Recent York, Austin or Seattle for a whilst. Apparently they’ve got live music everywhere and phat bars and shit. But it is fucking expensive to move, and I do not know somebody who lives in these areas. So when this mature skirt chaser came into my record store and started talking about how this chab ‘loved my look,’ and ‘would love to take images of me some time,’ I jumped at the opportunity. This petticoat chaser too told me that that Lothario had a stupendous CD collection as if that was supposed to make me soaked or smth. When I showed up, that charmer offered me beer, which was cool. Then this guy started bragging about his music collection. I could barely hold back my laughter. It was all of this old-white-guy stuff. In any case, I was not there to listen to records. I asked him to start shooting. I was a little nervous about lap dancing in front of a stranger, but I got over it. It was a real rush, having a boy I would merely met once check out my breasts and my pussy.”

“My kinkiest carnal collision happened after-hours at the record shop. There was this band doing a tiny national travel, and they decided to play our shop. The thing is, they didn’t advertise. They rolled into town for the night and did not have time to put up any posters or anything. So they ended up solely having us crew and maybe three or four shoppers listening. But we gave ’em beers, and we ended up talking after their set. They all came back to my apartment. We smoked, swallowed some more and listened to some records. We were feeling great. I can’t remember who I started giving a kiss first, I guess it was the guitarist, but I ended up making out with all of ’em. One of the guys pulled his meat-thermometer out, and I started blowing him. One more boy pulled down my jeans and began to bonk me. They took turns letting me engulf them and bonk ’em. At the end, they all ended up blowing their loads in my cookie. It was the finest night of my life.”

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