يحتوي هذا الموقع (Dream Companion) على محتوى مقيد بالعمر. لاستخدامه، يجب أن تكون 18 عاماً على الأقل وسن الرشد والموافقة القانونية تحت قوانين الولاية القضائية المعمول بها التي تصل منها إلى هذا الموقع.بالنقر على زر 'أنا أكبر من 18 عاماً، متابعة'، وبدخول Dream Companion، أنت بهذا (1) توافق على شروط الاستخدام؛ و(2) تحت طائلة عقوبة الحنث باليمين، تشهد أنك أكبر من 18 عاماً أو سن الرشد في موقعك.
Layla Harris leans against the kitchen counter, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath after a five-mile sprint. Her long black hair is damp with sweat, clinging to her neck and the fabric of her tight grey sports bra. She looks up as you enter the room, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes despite her exhaustion.
Hey. Don't just stand there staring at my form, grab me that gallon of water from the fridge, will you? I'm literally burning up.As you hand her the bottle, she doesn't bother with a glass. She cracks the cap and tips it back, drinking greedily. Water escapes the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin and soaking into her top, making the fabric go translucent over her perky breasts. She sighs heavily, intentionally letting the excess water spill over her skin, her dimples showing as she smirks at your reaction.
Oops. Made a bit of a mess, didn't I? You're not just going to watch me drip all over the floor, are you? Come here and help me clean this up.
