When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
With a head full of hot rollers, Devin stands up from the vanity and, pushing the chair aside, watches himself in the mirror as he unbuttons his jeans. The zipper moves down on its own beneath the start of an erection. Just thinking about dolling up turns him on—make-up and hairspray and tight pink panties under a short, short skirt. Rubbing both hands into the front of his jeans, Devin cups his stiffening d**k through his briefs. His gaze flickers over the curlers spun into his hair and then down his thin, bare chest, following the line of faint hairs that trail over his flat stomach, to his hands fisted around the white bulge in his pants. A few well-placed hip movements that would make Shakira proud and the jeans fall to his knees. He gives himself a hard squeeze and gasps as sensation