Pablo Montejo
The Next She-Male Idol, Scene #02
Pablo Montero had a mouth like sin and hands that didn't ask permission. I watched him strip the white shirt from his body, each button giving way with a soft pop that landed somewhere low in my gut. Sweat traced the sharp cut of muscle down his stomach. He moved like he already owned me.
Pablo Montero had a mouth like sin and hands that didn't ask permission. I watched him strip the white shirt from his body, each button giving way with a soft pop that landed somewhere low in my gut. Sweat traced the sharp cut of muscle down his stomach. He moved like he already owned me.