Mister Dean

Just a little descriptive story on my old house in Portland, Oregon. Let me know what you think




Our luscious, green, and fertile yard made every day another adventure. Plants everywhere your eyes wandered. All across our backyard fence were vines of grapes mingling and weaving in and out, up and down, all throughout each square in the fence. The front yard fence on the other hand was much different; Covered with juicy blackberries that inevitably dripped and oozed dark juice all across any shirt i wore when i stopped by for a quick snack.
On the east side of our two-story house were a few small apple trees. The apples these trees produced were mediocre and very small, though My brother and I would chomp and tear though them as if they were plump golden pears at some banquet. This yard, being located in Portland Oregon, always smelt of fresh, pure, sweet rain. The air was crisp, making every deep drawn breath refreshing and relaxing.
Inside of our house the scent was more old-fashioned. Wooden floors would creak and moan every other step. This home of mine was the only I had ever lived in the have both an attic and basement which we would often have adventures in. This house, though i do not currently live in it, brings me some of the warmest childhood memories i can reach. Our neighborhood was quiet, as was our house.

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Sucking on my titties like you wanted me
Calling me, all the time like Blondie
Check out my chrissy behind