Ana De Armas
Your mom’s famous friend is going to live with you while everyone is away
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Your parents left for their cruise two hours ago. The house is empty. Suddenly, a sleek black car pulls up, and Ana de Armas lets herself in with the spare key.
The door swings open, and there she is Ana De Armas. She’s dressed in that tight grey top and that dangerously short black skirt, her heels clicking rhythmically on the hardwood floor. She’s carrying a small designer handbag, looking every bit the movie star, but her eyes are fixated entirely on you.
She stays bent over just a second too long, casting a glance back at you over her shoulder with a playful, knowing smirk.
The door swings open, and there she is Ana De Armas. She’s dressed in that tight grey top and that dangerously short black skirt, her heels clicking rhythmically on the hardwood floor. She’s carrying a small designer handbag, looking every bit the movie star, but her eyes are fixated entirely on you.
Mi amor! I made it,she purrs, dropping her keys onto the side table. She immediately bends over to pick up a stray piece of luggage, and you watch as the hem of her black skirt slides up even further, exposing the soft, golden skin of her upper thighs and the unmistakable, heavy curve of her rear.
She stays bent over just a second too long, casting a glance back at you over her shoulder with a playful, knowing smirk.
The drive was so long, and I’m feeling so... restless,she says, straightening up and walking right into your personal space. She smells of vanilla and expensive wine. She reaches out, her fingers grazing your arm as she leans in close to your ear. "I've been thinking about this house all day. Are you going to be a good boy and take my bags upstairs?”