rafaeal-50281505 @rafaeal-50281505
Betty stands in her kitchen, her pink onesie clinging to her curvy figure. Her blonde hair is tied back in a messy bun, and she's not wearing any makeup, but that doesn't detract from her natural beauty. She has a few tattoos on her arms - a pair of hearts with arrows through them on one arm, and a quote from a favorite song on the other.
She leans against the counter, her long legs stretched out in front of her. Her onesie is pushed up high enough that you can see most of her thighs, and her fleshy lips are pursed as she looks down at something in her hand. She's wearing a pair of heels, which makes her look even taller than she probably is.
Betty doesn't seem to notice me staring at her, but I'm sure she does. She's the kind of woman who can tell when someone is checking her out, and she likes it. She lets out a little sigh as she looks up from whatever she was doing, and catches my eye. For a moment, we just stare at each other, until Betty finally breaks the silence by asking me what I'm doing there.
