I've always had a thing for southern boys. I love the slow, honeyed way they drawl, "Yes, ma'am" and bob their heads in an almost submissive little click of acknowledgement. I think I could be quite content to amass an entire harem of fellas, plucked from Georgia and Louisiana and Alabama and the Carolinas. I'd be willing to take some Yankees, too. (Lord knows one of my favorite panty boys is from Boston and I'm not leaving him out!) You'll just have to audition and be willing to undergo some training in Miss Layla's Finishing School of Decorum and Sluttiness.
So my summer vacation in the south was just as wonderful as you'd imagine. Yes, there was sweltering, but I don't sweat so much as glisten. And there was no shortage of panting young men eager to lap the little droplets of moisture from my heated thighs. I made particularly close friends with the young man who checked me into my hotel. You really should hear all the lurid details personally. Anal orgasms are a wonder to behold. I'm afraid the poor darling will never be the same. And neither shall you...
That particular experience has put me in quite the mood for anal exploration chat. I love swapping stories, details and tips. I want to hear how your pretty pink rosebud clenched up and was slowly relaxed and eased open by the teasing of velvety fingertips. Or tell me about the hot, throbbing jab of a dildo / cock / butt plug shoved into you for the first time and the wash of crimson humiliation staining your cheeks.
Let me talk you through curling your fingers to get at your prostate, or listen to your whispered confessions of ass fucking fantasies, or help you shop for the right toys to make your already well-used fuckhole gape.
I'm in the mood for "asstastic" play. Join me?
~ Layla (866) 992-3258 ~
