owned

I love seeing my cock next to such a sexy pussy!! Any other women out there who like doing tributes of their own? S/o to Sluttycouple69x for this amazing one!!

Hi,
Recently separated and looking to hookup with female  (but willing to experiment with very feminine TV/CD/sissy/ladyboy bottoms)
Looking for a slow approach: coffee dinner, etc and see if there's room for something more.
Got my own place and car, so,happy to host or drive small distances to accommodate. Also happy to provide short term accommodation for girls who might need some space to thjnk (no obligations) and who knows....
I'm respectful, mannered and polite, old fashioned at times, just looking for some company, a normal life (food, movie, drinks, etc).
420 & other things friendly
Only thing I draw a line at is: pay for company, that's a no-no (don't even waste time). Will pay meals, drinks and other means of fun, but that's it.
If it appeals to you get in touch and we can make arrangements and meet up 

Edinburgh ( Scotland, UK) area or nearby only

Cheerio, 

 Black Owned

The mall was a shithole, its flickering fluorescent lights buzzing like a dying wasp nest. Alex, 19, fresh off volleyball practice, strutted into the Victoria’s Secret PINK section like she was daring the world to fuck with her. Her father, Greg, trailed behind, cursing under his breath. He’d lost a stupid-ass bet—naming every goddamn Pixies song—and now he was stuck in this neon-lit cesspool of lace and cotton, his boots scuffing the grimy linoleum.Alex had just showered at the gym, her skin still slick, her hair dripping with that cheap coconut body wash that smelled like a tropical dumpster. But the shower didn’t scrub away the raw, feral energy of the court—her eyes fucking burned with it, sharp as broken glass. She zeroed in on a rack of PINK thongs, snatching a pair so goddamn skimpy they looked like they’d disintegrate if you breathed on them: hot pink, strings thinner than dental floss, with a cotton gusset that was more of a suggestion than actual fabric. “These,” she snarled, tossing them at the cashier, some dead-eyed hag who rang them up like she was already half-buried.Back home, Alex vanished into her room, the door slamming like a fucking sledgehammer. Greg collapsed onto the couch, the TV spitting static, the air in the house thick as shit, like something was breathing down his neck. He tried to shake off the mall’s sickly glow, but it stuck to him like sweat.Hours later, Alex sauntered out, her volleyball spandex shorts clinging to her thighs—black, glossy, so fucking tight they were basically see-through, the hot pink thong’s outline taunting him through the sheer fabric. She flicked something onto the living room floor: the PINK thong, crumpled, soaking wet, its strings frayed like they’d been chewed up by something alive. The cotton gusset was stained dark with sweat and grime, smeared with a yellowish muck that made Greg’s stomach lurch. The smell hit him like a punch to the face—musky, primal, a fucked-up mix of coconut body wash, volleyball court sweat, and something darker, like wet earth mixed with sweet, rotting fruit. It wasn’t just dirty; it was alive, burrowing into his lungs, making his head spin like he’d snorted something bad.Alex leaned against the doorway, her spandex shorts glinting under the flickering lights, the pink thong’s outline mocking him. Her lips curled into a smirk that screamed fuck you, her eyes glinting with something too goddamn sharp. “They’re fucking wrecked,” she said, her voice low, like she was laughing at the universe. “Practice was a bitch. Gonna need more.”Greg’s jaw clenched. “Alex, what the fuck? And where’s your goddamn homework? You think you can just skip that shit and leave your nasty-ass laundry everywhere?” His voice cracked, but his eyes were glued to the thong. The frayed strings twitched, the smell growing thicker, sweeter, pulling at something sick and wrong inside him. He wanted to scream, to throw the fucking thing out, but his body wouldn’t listen, his breath hitching as the scent clawed into him.She didn’t answer, just stood there, smirking, her see-through spandex shorts a fucking taunt. The room felt like a furnace, the walls sweating, the air pulsing with that smell—coconut, sweat, and something that wasn’t fucking human. Greg’s hands shook as he grabbed the thong off the floor, the strings slick and frayed, the gusset heavy with that rotten, intoxicating scent. He couldn’t stop himself. He brought it to his face, the smell flooding his senses—musky, sweet, metallic, like a fever dream you can’t wake up from. His mind screamed what the fuck are you doing?, but his body didn’t care.Then, rage kicked in. Alex’s smug-ass smirk, her skipped homework, the way she stood there like she fucking owned him—it was too much. He spat on the thong, a thick glob hitting the stained gusset, mixing with the wet grime. He tossed it back to the floor, cursing under his breath, thinking she hadn’t seen. But the smell didn’t fade; it got stronger, mocking him, curling around him like a noose. Alex turned and walked away, her spandex shorts glinting, leaving the thong there like a fucking landmine.The next day, Alex wore the same goddamn thong. Greg didn’t know how she didn’t notice the spit, the grime, the way it was falling apart. She strutted around in those see-through spandex shorts, the pink thong’s outline glaring through the fabric, wet and clinging like it was part of her skin. She went to volleyball practice, came back, and tossed another ruined thong on the floor—always wet, always stained, always reeking of that same sickening smell: coconut, sweat, and that sweet, decayed earthiness that made Greg’s head swim. Her smirk never faltered, her eyes glinting like she knew something he didn’t.It became a fucking ritual. Every day, Alex would shower, pull on those see-through spandex shorts, and leave a new PINK thong on the floor—wet, frayed, the strings curling like they were alive, the gusset soaked with sweat and grime. And every day, Greg would pick them up, cursing her for skipping her homework, for being such a reckless fucking mess. But he couldn’t stop himself. He’d sniff them, the smell hitting him like a musky, sweet, metallic, rotting, alive—pulling him deeper into something he couldn’t name. He’d spit on them sometimes, furious at her, at himself, but the thongs kept coming, always wet, always reeking, always there.One night, Greg stood over the latest thong, his hands shaking, the smell so thick it felt like it was choking him. Alex stood in the doorway, her spandex shorts glinting, the pink thong’s outline a fucking curse through the sheer fabric. “You’re so fucking pathetic,” she whispered, her voice echoing in his skull, layered with something that wasn’t her. The room tilted, the walls dripping, the thong’s strings writhing on the floor. “Keep sniffing, Dad. You’re already fucked

Wish I could turn this slutty little cunt into my personal fucktoy. Use her every hole and leave her a cum filled mess to be used for my own pleasure only

Own flesh and blood

Sexy Mom Hazrat Fatima Cheats on her husband, and commitment for sex with her own son Hassan. Hassan is very crazy for fuck own mom Hazrat Fatima 💦💦💦

I'm a 40 year old man and I've always been fascinated at the fantasy of gender swapping and role reversal. It's always something that has stirred something inside of me to be faced with a woman wearing a strap-on cock and for her to take control of me and fuck me like a worthless whore. The problem that I've always run in to with this fantasy is that it doesn't fit in to the stigma and stereotype of a masculine or manly and most women I've dated wouldn't hear the fantasy through let alone wand to try or take part of it. I think that has been my biggest issue is that the women I approach with my fantasy are straight, and so now I'm thinking that I've been going about trying to fulfill that fantasy of mine wrong this whole time. Maybe infact instead of straight women I need to be looking for lesbian, buch lesbian women that want/need to be the ones in control of a sexual encounter and fulfill the role of a man... My issue being that while that would be the attitude of the person I need for my fantasy I also want the feminine parts of a woman from taking care of herself and shaving to having a nice set of tits that would flop about as she is owning me like the slut I long to be. To be certain this fantasy of mine is, or rather has, turned out to be much more complicated to fulfill than I ever thought it would be.... If there is or are women out there that have fantasies about gender swapping and role reversal please message me so we can at least fantasize about it together, even if it's only online....

If I made my Master hard and to peeking. As I am going to a trip tomorrow and cant post visual here. Will my Master keep peeking to see a little bit of me if He missed seeing me? He was always visual. I will be leaving some sexy things. If it was just a reward for my efforts, thank You. I will then wait when my Master feels more in mood to create with me something more crazy than I am able to craft on my own. My Master is my fuel and the Devil that corrupts me. I would invite You to my trip and misbehaving but we know that whe not playful my Master won't accept it. I do hope I made You hard and curious to peek more. And do know my Lord I love to please You bit You are my fuel and our energy. Thank You

Own her