I love Farrah Foxx. She looks like a giant ocean of chocolate mousse. Warm, soft and rich. I love her sweet sensual smile. I love the juicy gulf of her waist, so deep you can hide your whole face in it. I love her hips, overloaded with the squishiest, most delicious cellulite. And I adore her big fat thighs, a true monument to opulence.
I wonder if she wears miniskirts when she goes out. She should, because with so much bulging flesh to show she could start a cult.
I imagine her sitting in front of an altar, her legs spread wide open and hordes of followers at her feet. She invites the skinniest single men next to her and she lets them cup the dangling flesh of her fattened thighs.
“Squeeze my flesh, dear, feel my lard in your hands”
Her devotees are allowed to jiggle her leg fat and suckle it, for at least one hour. They are required to strip naked in front of everyone and show how big or small they are, and how hard they get when they touch her.
Couples are not invited to partake, but if the Goddess sees a man with a grumpy skinny woman, he is asked to come closer to hug the full girth of her big fat thighs. She allows the new adept to fully squeeze the meat of her thighs. No one ever refuses.
“See how fat these legs are? Isn’t it better with so much flesh?”
The skinny girl observes with amazement as her man’s penis gets bigger than she has ever seen while he’s fondling a pair of legs so fat — and buttocks so bulbous — that the the cellulite jiggles like tiny waves in a vast, calm ocean. Her toned, slender legs look insignificant next to Farrah’s outrageous opulence.
(Photo is (c) Farrah Foxx)
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