PAWG Gets A Creampie
Title: A thousand word write up of the video PAWG Gets A Creampie
The sun hung high in the cloudless sky, its rays beating down upon the asphalt parking lot. It was a scorcher today, the kind of day where the air shimmers with heat and the scent of sunscreen permeates everything. Perfect weather for lounging by the pool in a bikini, but not for the poor soul stuck in traffic.
Brigitte was one such soul. Her Sony A7RIII camera sat idle in her lap as she waited for the light to turn green. The traffic jam on the 405 was a common occurrence, but it still frustrated her to no end. Impatiently, she tapped her nails against the steering wheel, the red paint gleaming in the sunlight.
Lucky for her, the car in front started moving, an old Chevy pickup most likely from the 70s with a faded L’artiste et amoureux vanity license plate. “Finally,” Brigitte sighed in relief.
As the vehicles crept forward, she noticed the truck’s taillights power on. Strange, she thought. The traffic picked up after the long wait. Yards passed before she realized what was happening; she was running into the car in front!
In a flurry, she slammed on her brakes and swerved to avoid the impending collision. Tires screeched as her Honda Civic swerved around the pickup. Floating on two wheels, it crashed into the paved grass median with a crunch of metal and a pop of the airbags.
An eternity passed before she comprehended the situation. The bag deflated, leaving her dazed yet unharmed. She managed to daintily pick herself out of the wreckage, an impressive task even in comfortable yoga pants.
A tall figure appeared beside her and she turned, shoving her sunglasses to the top of her blonde pixie cut. Her emerald eyes focused and narrowed with disapproval. It was the pickup’s driver, now crowding her space.
“Watch it, lady!” He exclaimed, pointing back to her totaled car. “You could’ve killed someone with that move!”
Brigitte’s lips pursed into a thin line, her patience wearing thin. “Excuse me,” she hissed under her breath, “But you stopped in the middle of the road!”
“No one told you to break check!” The man fired back. “I’m calling the cops!”
“You do that,” she dared him, gesturing towards his apparently unscathed vehicle. Her blood began to boil at this absurd confrontation.
An hour later, the California Highway Patrol arrived. Brigitte sighed as she watched them sift through the scene, taking pictures and making note of everything. It would be a long process to get everything sorted out and the equipment back from impounded.
Grumbling under her breath, she popped the trunk open and started filling out an incident report. This was going to put her behind schedule.
As she grabbed the car insurance from her bag, she heard the front door close behind her. Curious, Brigitte glanced over her shoulder…and her breath caught in her throat.
Gracing the seat was the most exquisite behind she had ever seen. It stretched her yoga pants to their limit, delectable rounds ready to consume the eye. She had to physically restrain herself from reaching out and copping a feel.
Her eyes raked over the incredible body attached. Long legs perfectly shaped for worship, pale unblemished skin tat’d with intricate designs. Unearthly swell of her breasts, as if sculpted by Aphrodite herself. A vision of untamed beauty, wild and carefree.
Brigitte swallowed hard, trying to regain an air of composure before she turned around. As fate would have it, their eyes met in the rearview mirror.
AWHAH! No backstory mentioned besides a near accident!
Congrats on the obligatory mention of every single tag, but you have no desire to actually write anything related to the video despite the title. This is shite writing. I must have been drinking when I assigned it.
