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aftertale
aftertale I don’t remember a lot about the next couple of days. I couldn’t shake the image of Mrs. B. on her knees gazing up at me while my cock pulsed a geyser of cum into her mouth. Not that I wanted to shake the image. I do remember beating my cock like it owed me money for days after the closet incidence.
- Highlights
- Popular with businesses in Hong Kong SAR
- Use directly in Shopify admin
Languages
English, Chinese (Simplified), French, German, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Portuguese (Brazil), Spanish, and Turkish
Works with
Categories
Campaign management
Listing management
Order management
Pricing
Free
Free to install
When you run a campaign, you set the budget and the ad spend is billed directly to your aftertale ad account
All charges are billed in USD.
Reviews (17,820)
aftertale
This is generated by Shopify Magic. It's shown when an app has 100+ reviews and a 4.0 overall rating.
This is generated by Shopify Magic. It's shown when an app has 100+ reviews and a 4.0 overall rating.
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aftertale I don’t remember a lot about the next couple of days. I couldn’t shake the image of Mrs. B. on her knees gazing up at me while my cock pulsed a geyser of cum into her mouth. Not that I wanted to shake the image. I do remember beating my cock like it owed me money for days after the closet incidence.
Sarah knelt on the kitchen counter with her face down on her arms. She hadn’t gotten a minute more of sleep last night. How could she have? She had replayed her entire time underneath the covers over and over again. It wasn’t even until hours later that she realised that her panties were completely soaked.
“Good, you're awake,” a soft, seductive voice purred. I had to force myself to focus again, to see the tall, gorgeous blonde stepping into the room. Even then, I thought surely I had to be hallucinating; she was stunning, her tiny black leather bikini top barely covering her nipples on her huge, gravity-defying DD-cup tits, the matching tight black miniskirt showing off slender, toned legs that seemed to go on forever. “Do you remember me yet, Brian?”
I had the worst crush on Mrs. B. It was in her class that I learned that I have a fatal weakness for redheads. I loved to watch her move through the room. She wore skirts and dresses that were too short for female students, but no one complained. It’s just who she was. She had lovely legs, no reason not to let the world see them. When she wore pants (they were just recently allowed), they were skintight, revealing a cute tight little ass. Tops were also tight, often with some cleavage showing between her pretty B-cup breasts.
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Launched
October 20, 2024
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