Terry Anne is a hot gypsy nympho. She’s got a wanderlust deep inside of her, and she never can seem to stay in one place very long. “I want to travel the world, see all of it from the back-road glimpses. I’m not the tourist type. I want to see the gritty underpinnings of each place I visit.” She walks the back-roads and byways, sometimes hitching a ride with men who are drawn to her long, wild black hair or even longer legs. “It’s funny. Every guy who pulls his pickup truck over, or it could be a coupe or a station wagon. You can smell the desire on them. No matter his cologne or sweat, desire smells all the same.” Terry Anne doesn’t bother with thumbing for a ride- all she has to do is let the wind lift her skirt, showcasing her perfectly sculpted ass. Who wouldn’t stop for her?
“Gypsy women have always had the reputation for being easy. Back in the old days, though, most women didn’t have the means to travel on their own. Nor would they have had to show as much to get the same level of attention.” she laughs ruefully. “I love to wander the train tracks, especially. It’s as if I can feel the sexual energy of all the women in my family who wandered before me. It’s like they’re ghosts who tell me that I have to open myself to the world before it will open to me.” And Terry Anne does, taking every cock offered to her throughout her travels, though she’s promised to another since childhood. “I gave him my virginity, and he gets me for himself at the end. Until then, I don’t want to live knowing that I passed up the chance to experience the world more intimately.”
“I couldn’t say how many men I’ve been with. Some for long months, some for the length of a ride. It’s not about the number. It’s about creating a moment of connection between two people that is real in that moment of time eternal. I could never stay with just one man. My betrothed knows this. He doesn’t like it, but what can he do but accept it?” Terry Anne pulls off her hot pink t-shirt to let the breeze over the stream cool her. The wind shifts her wild black hair and ruffles her miniskirt, and her nipples harden with the slight chill in the air. She’s lost her panties somewhere along the track. No sooner does a truck comes rumbling down the road paralleling the tracks, the driver whistling and calling something incoherently. “Well, there’s my ride.” Want to be the lucky guy offering this sexy teen gypsy her next ride? Get all the clues on where to find a teen bohemian you can call your own exclusively at Nubiles.net.
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