Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

As he walked towards the stage, Randall “RT” Taylor smiled and gave himself a pat on the back.

Just a few months before, his record label told him he was committing career suicide with his concept album, “Real Rock her long strawberry-blonde hair was tied in a ponytail. Randall and Maddison began dancing in an intentionally uncool and “square” style before Randall picked her up and flipped her head-over-heels before she landed perfectly and they began dancing again. They had rehearsed this sequence so many times before, but as he picked her up and flipped her, he realized she had no panties on. The brief glimpse of her bare, shaved pussy stunned him, and he hoped the television cameras didn’t capture any of it.

As they resumed dancing, he shot her a “what-the-fuck” look, and she smiled before quickly lifting up her poodle skirt to give him another glimpse. Now Bakırköy travesti Randall was getting nervous. He had tried to be as professional as possible around Maddison, but he couldn’t deny that he found her very attractive. Her smile emphasized her gorgeous dimples, and during rehearsals he thought of how lucky her boyfriend or girlfriend must be to kiss them at night. Her complexion was flawlessly smooth and almost silvery-white, and he thought it was uniquely beautiful. He had tried to keep these feelings to himself, and now she was flashing him on national television.

The saxophone solo was coming to an end, and Maddison gave Randall an unrehearsed kiss on the cheek before dancing to the back. He could feel his erection starting, and he hoped that he’d be able to make it to the end of the song without flustering a line.

“Oh, baby, Bakırköy travestiileri you know I want you /

And I know you should have the best /

Let me get you a big necklace of pearls /

And put it all on your chest /

Oh, baby /

Baby don’t break my heart /

Oh baby /

Baby don’t break my heart.”

The crowd roared, and Randall muttered a brief “thank you” before sprinting backstage. After a few minutes, he found Maddison wrapping up a conversation on her phone.

“Hey, what the fuck was with that?”

“What?” she smiled. “You didn’t like it?”

“Well, uh…” He didn’t know what to say.

“Just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“You know, that wasn’t cool. What if the cameras caught you?”

“Oh, they knew. They weren’t gonna shoot it.”

“You told the camera guys you were travesti Bakırköy gonna do that?”

“Yeah!”

Randall shook his head.

“I know it was a turn-on. I could tell.”

“Oh, no.”

“I just wanted to see how you’d react to a little surprise. You’re so precise with everything. Just wanted to throw you a curveball, that’s all.”

“Well, no more surprises, OK?”

“Well, I do have another one.”

Randall groaned.

“My name’s not really Maddison.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You remember I told you my mum and dad love music from the ’50s?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, they actually named me Margaret Susan Warner.”

“Wait a minute…your name’s Peggy Sue?!”

“Yeah! I don’t tell everyone, just really important people.”

“Thanks.”

She smiled. “Sorry if I upset you with what I did.”

“It’s OK.”

She reached over to give him a hug before quickly stepping back.

“Wow, it really was a turn-on, eh?”

He said nothing. All he could think about was being naked with her, pounding her beautiful pussy with as much passion as his body could muster, and whispering in her ear how much he loved Peggy Sue…

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32