Tessa Fowler – Trampoline Fun 1

Tessa Fowler – Trampoline Fun 1: An Indulgent Peek into the Naughtiest Solo Session Ever!

Oh, Tessa Fowler, where do I even begin with my salacious account of your tantalising escapades in the sun-drenched backyard? The lush, emerald green grass, the limp, white bedsheet billowing from the clothesline like a beckoning siren, and THE TRAMPOLINE – that accursed, ever-trampoline.

There you stood, sunlight dancing upon your porcelain skin, copper curls rippling down your back as you flashed a coy smile at the camera. You were a vision in your simple, white tank-top and blue cotton undies. There was an unmistakable weariness to your eyes, as if life had bestowed upon you the sweetest of treats – a blissful day of doing absolutely nothing!

And waste your day on nothing you did not, my naughty minx. Your first stop was the clothesline, where you sensuously unhooked the sheet, allowing it to float to the ground, a lovers’ keepsake waiting to be caressed once more. You draped the sheet over your shoulders, a makeshift cape for the world’s most exciting indoor superhero!

Next stop: the trampoline, that elusive bouncy bed beckoning you with Cloud Nine promises. Slowly, sensuously, you peeled off your tank-top, revealing the plush, creamy flesh of your glorious breasts. Freed from their cotton cage, they bounced and jiggled with the sheer excitement of being let free. You giggled, innocence itself, as you bounced, each step towards the trampoline an erotic adventure.

Withdrawing a compact mirror from your trusty pocket, you checked your smoldering reflection. Tartan undies astride the prettiest peaches, a splash of blue standing stark against your ivory skin, titian haired vixen plotting her next move. You knew you were hot stuff and the trampoline was but the first course in your debauched degustation menu.

With a Hopalong Cassidy bounce, you popped onto the trampoline. Giggles bubbled up from your pillowy breasts as it sprung to life beneath you. Each hop sent them bobbing and weaving, like the prettiest pinballs in the arcade of lust. You hopped higher, higher, dizzy with desire and the sheer frenzy of bouncing.

Your undies had to come off. It was a matter of pure necessity. With each hop, they bunched and tugged, providing an exquisite, maddening friction. Down they came, a puddle of tartan blue at your naughty feet. Sunshine kissed your skin, a warmth that thrilled to your core.

Now clad in nothing but a dazzling smile and a smattering of freckles, you were the picture of unbridled joy as you bounced. Your breasts – and other delectable bits – jiggled and jostled with reckless abandon. It was a sight to behold, a vision of raw, unadulterated pleasure.

All too soon, the trampoline sprang its final bounce. With a triumphant cry, you leapt into the air, your body arcing like a diver interrupting the still waters of some pornographic pond. Down, down you came, your ass perfectly poised to absorb impact with that most primal part of your anatomy.

Oh, Tessa! The zesty thrill of landing square on your ass, the cool grass greeting your heated skin! There you sat, a vision of ebullient bliss, all prudish pretense shed. Your hair, your body, your very essence glistened with the sweat of your all-out bouncing.

Rolling onto your back, you stretched out like a self-satisfied cat, fingertips grazing the grass. Each breath inflated your lungs, your breasts rising and falling like cakes in a baker’s window. A languid hand crept down, over your taut tummy, resting oh-so-near to your glistening pink treasure.

With a coy wink at the camera, you shimmied your shoulders. Action, as they say, speaks louder than words. But it was your glorious body, strewn so wantonly across the lawn, that cried out the loudest. Every curve, every dimple, every inch of your luminous skin seemed to utter a siren song of lust.

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around your knees. It was the picture of pure innocence – and absolutely no mistake, everyone knew it! Your hair fell over your collarbone, the collarbone that stood proudly beneath your raised mounds. With great aplomb, you tossed it over your shoulder.

Rising, you sauntered towards the camera, a sensual goddess in your most natural state. You took us in your arms, a warm embrace for all, pulling us close. Your lips pursed in a farewell kiss, your eyes twinkling like the sunniest of lawn saints.

And then you were gone, a vain attempt to re-drape the sheet over your glorious form. But we knew the truth – your nude, tender demeanor was forever burned into our scorching memories.

Thus concluded your daring day of trampoline fun! May you continue to dalliance in the sun, sporting knowing smiles and not much else!