Milf
I swear Phylicia Rashad has my heart. Not sure why, or how, but I swear if I caught her in the 80s we’d have a very articulate sophisticated dinner. Then I’d walk her home and before I turn away to make my way home, she’d stop me and say…”Would you like some coffee?”…I don’t fuck with coffee, but I’d reply…”Why, that sounds absolutely lovely”. I’d walk in and wipe my feet and she’ll give me a look as if to say…”Take those wheat timbs off” with her sharp, brown eyes. I’d comply hoping my foot odor doesn’t linger (it won’t because this is my fantasy). I’ll take my seat in the living room while Phylicia takes her heels off, and I notice her manicured feet with gray toe nail paint glistening as if she just paid a Vietnamese woman seconds ago. She’d catch me staring and she’ll say…”You like cream in your coffee?”…and I’ll say…”Naw, just sugar”. From that point she’ll sit next to me and whisper sweet nothings into my ear…….and from there we’ll bone.
P.S. I Should Be Studying
