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Bbw girl in Ibague

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Video Catarina
Location: Ibague
21 years old

About Catarina


You have been a good girl your whole life, but you also have carried a secret with you that fills you with silent shame and embarrassment, because your fantasy doesn't match your personality at all. There is something secretly submissive in you that yearns to be satisfied. You long for a dominant, sexy, man to take control of you and discipline you. You want to feel helpless...dominated...NOT in control. You want to have your panties forcibly taken down and be spanked like a naughty school girl. You want to be pushed down over the sofa, feel your skirt lifted, your moistened underwear pulled aside. You want a big, hard cock to invade your slippery wetness, stretching you wider than you thought possible and making you feel oh so deliciously slutty. You are a normal person, constrained by society's conventions and frustrated by your inability to realize your innermost fantasies. You want to be spanked with your panties down and you want to be fucked like a slut -- you are already getting wet right now just thinking about it.

I am a 30 year old handsome, college-educated, intelligent & professional man who is physiy fit and accustomed to dealing with naughty girls like you. I will lecture you and instruct you to pull your skirt up around your waist as I kneel before you and pull your panties down to your thighs. The delicious smell of your aroused pussy will rise to meet me. You will feel the cool air on your bush and revel in the delicious anticipation. Then I will instruct you to stand against the wall with your legs spread and your hands above your head while I slowly pace about behind you and your clit tingles with excitement. You will feel my eyes on your pussy and this thought will excite you even more. Then I will you sternly and bend you over a chair so that your pussy is in full view - wet, exposed, vulnerable. Oh, the shame of it. I will stroke your clit gently and when you try to stop me I will slap your cheeks hard.

Then I will commence the spanking proper. Perhaps I will use my hand. If you resist too much I will use a hairbrush or my leather belt. It will sting, but not be intolerable, and every now and again you would feel my fingers probe your fragrant slippery slit, making you gasp with pleasure and ache for penetration. Maybe I will tell you to reach between your legs and spread your lips apart with your fingers as I kneel behind you and slide my tongue between your sopping aromatic folds. I will continue spanking your now very red ass and you will be torn between tears and screams of delight. When your punishment is over, I will instruct you to kneel in front of me and take my big cock deep into your mouth, making you almost gag as I hold your hair and fuck your face while you moan approvingly and look up at me, your eyes wild with desire. When I am convinced that you want my cock badly enough I will turn you around on your hands & knees and I will wait as you kneel in that position until you BEG me to fuck you, and then I will grab you firmly by your hips and RAM my hard cock into your wet & swollen pussy hard and fast; banging you the way you were meant to be banged, until we both collapse in a sweaty heap of sexual bliss.

It has been a beautiful sunny day out which is quite unusual for Oregon this time of year. To prove that you are a real person, put Submission as the title of your e-mail.
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Sexual Fantasies:


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Location: Ibague
29 years old

About me

Ever walk into your apartment, open the fridge, grab that pitcher of kool-aid, and pour a nice cold glass to chill in the evenings while watching a football game ONLY to find that you left a have chopped onion on a plate while the pitcher was not sealed, which made a nice previously rich-n-sweet cup of red taste like steak with sauteed onions and mushrooms. Yeah, that happened to me for the superbowl. Yeah, I know, onion-flavored Kool-Aid. What would my high school classmates ever think of me?

Most of my life, I spent in barrios, slums, ghettos, favelas, and the projects. My father was strange that way, with all the moving around. (My mother died when I was young... Actually, she was murdered but I'm not here to discuss that.) We stayed with my brother's mother in Brazil in the favela da. Marta, I've never met him because we left his mother when she was pregnant with him. Last I heard, he was living in a nice house with a pool. I never learned Portuguese and he resents my father and I. That's how that goes. What I re in Brazil was playing on motorcycles going up and down stairs of narrow allies. I also shot my first rifle and killed an animal--a pig or goat--for some family who parted the animal to several families. I also remember trying real cocaine.

Mexico ed on my father for a few months so I lived in a barrio ed Neza-Chalca-Itza. My father fell in love with the drug lord's daughter and I distinctly remember a group of hooded men storming into my shanty and taking my father away whilst taking me somewhere else. I was told the he had to answer for his betrayal, but that I would be sent to America to work as a slave. What ended up happening was the drug lord's daughter had some friends and leaders in a rising rebellion ready to do her bidding and die for her. Many did. My father was safely moved to Bedford-Stuyfersent, New York City through the underground. Friends of her slain brother permitted me to reunite with my father under the condition that we would change our names and move India for a few years. We stayed in the slums of Mumbai for a few months until my father got an itch for business again. So, off to Paris we went.

My formative years were spent in Paris with artist and fashionistas. Again, my father made some friends and met some highly influential and attractive people. I have another brother from this period. In fact, I have three more but one was literally my age. Yes, we were born on the same day, same year, and same hour. We were miles in distance. His mother was an aspiring actress and model my father slept with while he did his short stint in the military and he was stationed in Europe enroute to the middle east. He had been shot and that's where they sent the special ops for surgery. He met her through a nurse that yes he was sleeping with. Apparently, they were always together on Champs-Elyses--the three of them. When he was mediy discharged, my father returned to my mother at which point I was conceived. My brother must have started in his mother's brewery the day before I started in my mother.s My twin from another mother and I became good friends. During my time in the slums of Paris, I learned all I know about French and the French people. My fondest memories are from there. I had my first kiss and lost my virginity there. However, strangely, I miss my brother's mother the most. Although she was a well paid model, she would always eat a boiled egg for breakfast and then a small dinner. By evening, when she was chilling with my father, she would always fart (quietly) and they smelled like the taste of those boiled eggs she ate in the morning. This is not a good smell. lol. My father often had to go to the corner store when she busted ass. Coincidence, non.

Recently, I left the US Military. I'm well travelled and well hung. I understand three languages albeit my speaking is quite off. Nevertheless, I can communicate within English and Romantic linguistics. My interest is in biology and economics. I'm a proud man looking for a good woman with an open mind. I don't have a job because I'm in transition. (good, now all the gold diggers have retreated)

One thing about my woman I can say because I've travelled the world is that I will not accept an obese woman. It's an American phenomenon that represents glut and an insult to the rest of the world. I want a woman that has control over her instinct to store fatty acids. I don't mind if you fart and they smell bad. No. That doesn't bother me. Don't be fat. I'm too proud of this country to be insulted in that way. None of the women in my life eat to such excess. I love a thick woman like you would find in the Caribbean with a good waist to hip ratio but I will not date the Michellin man or the Pillsbury Doughboy. Look at my body. I work out. I'm sexy and I know it. My farts smell like the taste of boiled eggs.

Write SEEKING AN ARTIST. Tell me about yourself. Buy a new skirt and heels for our first date. Show me how sexy you are. And I'll you.

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