Bumpers Of Tomorrow

Tits Of Tomorrow

Carly Parker’s funbags are poised and willing to bust out over the top of her bustier adore a river at flood-level height about to spill over a levee.

We are several years into the future and hookers have their own particular apps to discover clients, called a “John Finder.” Technology marches on so why cant ladies of the evening or day too identify new business with the latest in scientific miracles?

Carly easily locates a fresh customer with her phone and meets him for a bit of the mature in-out, in-out. They hook up and figure out the menu. Titty-fucking, meat-thermometer mouthing and “vaginal intercourse.” This is what this chab asks Carly to sell him.

What a polite boy John is. “Do you take credit cards?” that fellow asks. “Of course!” Carly chirps. They go to one of Carly’s beloved no-tell motels, a futuristic fuck chamber where she starts to suck his knob. But no matter the advanced tech or the year, rogering itself will not at all change cuz the aged ways are still the foremost. There is no app to replace sticking your pecker in a warm snatch. Carly and all of her lady-killer hookers of the next day still know how to do the job the traditional way.

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