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CuteGirlSamy Повиши модел до 1-ва позиция Когато кликнеш на бутона, ще повишиш CuteGirlSamy до първа позиция на главната страница за 60 секунди. През това време чат стаята на модела ще бъде много по-видима и изключително популярна! Известие за действието ти, което се вижда от модела и другите потребители, ще се появи в чата. CuteGirlSamy със сигурност ще оцени жеста и ще ти бъде безкрайно благодарна! Само премиум потребители могат да се възползват от тази функция: VIP – веднъж на всеки 10 дни. Diamond – 1 път на всеки 24 часа. EXCLUSIVE – 3 пъти на всеки 24 часа. Важни детайли за CuteGirlSamy Какво правим пред камерата Love different summer activities like roller-skating, swimming, beach volleyball and others Аматьорски клипове на CuteGirlSamy I love you everything beautiful
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Wildflowers Raise model to 1st position By clicking the button, you will be raising Wildflowers to the first position on the main page for 60 seconds. During this time the model's chat room will become much more visible and incredibly popular! A notification about your action will appear in the chat, visible to the model and the other chat users. Wildflowers will be sure to appreciate this gesture and be immeasurably grateful to you! Only premium users can take advantage of this feature: VIP – 1 time every 10 days. DIAMOND – 1 time every 24 hours. EXCLUSIVE – 3 times every 24 hours. Important details of Wildflowers What We do on webcam Occurring naturally in the wild, wildflowers are plants that grow without intentional cultivation by humans. Sometimes referred to as “weeds”, these flowers blossom yearly in the face of nature’s adversity; they are tough and beautiful, like us. “Wildflowers” resonates with us because our struggle to remain true to our identities as transgender individuals shares a parallel with these tenacious little blooms. Wildflowers grow with or without human interference, thriving all on their own. While most of their obstacles are human-made, it doesn’t take much help to see them overcome. In many places, wildflowers go unappreciated; they are called “weeds” and poisoned or pulled up by the root. Regardless of adversity, the tenacity and beauty of these naturally occurring flowers serves as a metaphor that elaborates on our own experiences as trans people. Members: https://bongacams.com?fuid=57251013 Models: https://bongamodels.com?fuid=57251013 I was designated female at birth (DFAB) by the counsel of a doctor and my estranged parents, and for twelve tumultuous years I was raised as a tomboy before seeded doubts finally sprouted into coherent questions about my gender and sexuality. Reared in an oppressive home, learning the proper vernacular for my own tabooed identity, about the sordid history of queer persecution, and the generational march towards liberty took years in the form of long, secretive, solitary hours on our one “family” computer. Past midnight, I would sit hunched in a dark room where the only light glared brightly from my monitor, researching these fascinating topics forbidden to me and my peers. I came out as a transgender man at sixteen, legally changed my name at nineteen, and started hormone replacement therapy (testosterone injections, specifically) at twenty-one. Now I’m twenty-four and non-binary, accepting both they/them and he/him pronouns since I’ve felt more comfortable expressing myself androgynously than I had when I had first transitioned. I have always been pansexual, meaning that I place no restrictions on sexual or romantic partners on the basis of their chromosomal arrangement, nor their gender identity. My presentation changed repeatedly throughout my life, and as it did, I learned how little gender means. I stumbled through childhood as a shy, soft spoken boy, adopting tougher punk aesthetics as bullying and sexual abuse weighed on me; at sixteen I knew for certain I wasn’t going to be happy as a man, but I knew I’d never be happy as a woman either. By age eighteen, I was out as a non-binary pansexual, and by twenty, I’d started hormone replacement therapy. Now, at twenty-four, I don’t constrain my self-expression to the stereotypes of a gender norm, nor do I judge how well a potential partner might make a satisfactory companion based on their chromosomal arrangement, or their adherence to pop-culture’s gender memes. I answer to they/them or she/her. Sylvie and I first met face-to-face at my eighteenth birthday party. We were dating other people at the time, and as is common, at some point we stopped talking. Four years later, they messaged me out of the blue and we agreed to meet up. We were both single and wary of commitment… and irresistible to one another. Our courtship began in earnest soon after rekindling our friendship. Three years later, we are bonded as partners in marriage, with a proper ceremony expected in due time. While not a necessity to our contented cohabitation, Sylvie and I are polyamorous; we are pleased with one another having multiple, exclusive relationships, or with the sharing of partners between us. From the first conversation we had in 2011, I couldn’t get enough of Thorn. I was not out as transgender yet, so he knew me as an effeminate gay boy. We were both in exclusive relationships with other people at the time, and as I became more and more fascinated with him, my boyfriend at the time forbade me from seeing him. After my transition in 2015 however, I was just recovering from a breakup (one year prior) with the aforementioned boyfriend-turned-fiance and looking for a new friend. Glancing back through my old chat histories, I came across the conversations with Thorn and started working up the courage to ask if he remembered or recognized me at all. He still teases me for asking that. The next two weeks we would spend as uncannily inseparable best friends, shortly followed by a frenzied courtship during which both of us were consistently surprised at how easily we understood each other. On New Year's Eve of 2016-2017 he proposed to me, and I’ve never been more certain of anything; he is my inspiration, my strength, and my solace. Our relationship is, always has been, and probably always will be polyamorous. We are, after all, hedonists; we both derive joy from the other’s happiness. Interpersonal Behavior This is a porn stream; there isn’t an air of pompous civility for us- the performers and viewership- to uphold when engaging with one another. Expletives are a matter of course in an adult exhibition. We can’t forget dirty talk, right? However, this does not condone bigoted and hateful language of any nature, and we kindly but sternly ask our audience to please refrain from using violent slurs and remarks. Refusing to conduct oneself ethically will immediately result in a ban from our room. In an explicitly sexual situation, formalities can freely fall by the wayside, yet even then it is perfectly reasonable to remember somebody’s name for the duration of an encounter. Repeated or deliberate misgendering (i.e. calling me “he”, or Thorn “she”) is unacceptable, and will result in a ban. Sexual Restrictions I’m a switch, so Sylvie will occasionally fuck me in the ass or the cunt, but we will never do so on request. Actually, I never plug anything into my cunt on request. Asking us extracts every molecule of moisture from our eager ass-pussies, making them crusty and unusable, and will immediately result in a ban from our room. I am fickle when it comes to topping, and not just because my femmy little cock doesn’t get as hard until the moments before I cum. As a rule, we do not offer scenarios in which I penetrate Thorn; while it may be something we plan for a particular occasion, it is not available upon request. Because we have a strong desire to keep chat open for people who have legitimate requests, we will ban any guests who refuse to follow this clearly defined principle. Yaoi and shounen-ai, definitely. While I sometimes read doujinshi of a series I already love, I typically read an original work in hopes it navigates the clichés well. Then, of course, Anne Ricean vampires and castrati. What can I say? Dynamic queer relationships in historical settings arouse me. My first exposures to queer situations were through anime and manga, this would later lead to yaoi doujinshi and fanfic. Naturally, this means it holds a very special place in my heart (and panties). My own experiences with sexual abuse, admittedly, also have a significant influence over my preferences. I derive greatest pleasure not from the moment of orgasm, but from the satisfaction on my lover's face, in their voice, as I love them tenderly and thoroughly. I love to watch them squirm vainly against the fastenings that spread them so lewdly in front of the camera, exposing their naughty ass-pussy for the entire world to covet. I cackle when bestowing upon them pain most succulent and severe. I’m obsessed with the way their ass jiggles and claps appetizingly when I strike at it without mercy, open-palmed or flogger in hand. When I can no longer bear the wretched sylph’s temptation, my teeth sink deep into that soft double-mound of flesh that is their ass, bruising it beautifully, leaving behind evidence of my abuse in the form of fang indentations and virulent red claw marks. I smirk to hear them squeal when I flick the head of their adorable little member. Just describing the scene makes my dick throb, once, twice, as I recall the saliva collecting on the edges of their ball-gag. When I can’t constrain myself any longer, I crush them with kisses. Our breath, hot, heavy with desire, intermingles; thick, dark eyelashes fluttering half-mast in euphoria; our tongues fencing desirously. I love rimming, or “riding my face while I furiously rub out my Hot Tamale like it's the C-stick during Mario Party’s ‘Pokey Pummel.’” I enjoy masturbating to hentai while fantasizing about being in the heroine’s perilous situation. I’m embarrassed to say that I’m still waiting for the day that I have group sex~... Thin braids of nylon pinch into my smooth, pale thighs, sweaty from play. The rope rubs against the dark, shaved folds of my labia, causing my dick to swell and bob eagerly for more. Swirl your tongue around my clit-dick, suck it, then tongue-fuck my cunt until I’ve creamed your face. Spread my cheeks wider to shame my slutty asshole; then slobber all over it, finger-slam it to climax, and fuck it tender pink. Pull my hair until the roots are screaming, and give me lovely, plum hickies when the last necklace of bruises has yellowed away. Humiliate and pamper me; degrade and worship me. Torture me with extremes of pleasure and pain; the dichotomy of hedonism. Fuck me where people might catch us, or at least catch glimpses that will perverse and pervade their dreams. I enjoy bleeding and choking, bruises and cuts, fear and humiliation. I want lace, bows, and to be treated like a pampered princess while I eat sweets in Papa’s lap. I would very much like to be treated like a dick-slave, collared and stepped on, tied and used for the pleasure of my master. I love when you run your tongue along the silky porcelain of my thighs, and up into my tight little hole.