Isabella Johns

Here__ what happens when a single mom meets New York City__ hottest fireman__hen_seductively_as if he received instruction not from the FDNY__ training school but at Chippendale___he slowly inches each suspender off his bare shoulders.___ou must know that exhilarating feeling of a man__ body on top of yours, all that power and muscle pressing you into the bed, the glorious taste of his tongue in your mouth, the manly scent that washes over you and makes you want to melt underneath him.___et__ not forget about his nine inches of shapely fireman hose dangling so close in front of my face the scent launches me into a blissful fever.___very place he touches contradicts his chosen profession, because instead of putting out a fire he surely starts one._____ so darn helpless in the arms of this powerful, young, ripped personification of New York__ Bravest that I feel myself about to erupt in the most earth shattering explosion since Mount Vesuvius last announced her presence.___ wonder if he could be enticed to show us a few maneuvers on the brass pole.___e orchestrates his own personal opera, inspiring high notes with kisses and licks along my elongated nipples, and deep moans with hands that caress my belly.___e are drawn uncontrollably to each other and have no power to resist, only the tremendous desire to experience everything in its most intense form.