You practically know this picture by heart. It's a punk woman with short blonde hair, standing and leaning against a chain-link fence next to several aluminum trash cans, obviously just props used in a photo studio. She's wearing a very small leather jacket over her shoulders, a leather miniskirt around her knees, studded ankle boots with stiletto heels, and a studded choker. This gives you an excellent view of her hourglass figure, including the grapefruit-sized breasts with rings piercing the pink nipples and the hair-free pussy with some metal of its own.
Many times have you stared into her stunning green eyes, then moved your own eyes across voluptuous curves decorated with tattoos; many times have you looked at her slightly parted lips to see the silver stud through her tongue and wondered what that would feel like; many times have you wondered what it would be like to actually touch any part of this woman who seems so exotic compared to all the other women and girls you've ever met.
You clutch the stone tightly in one hand as you kneel on the floor, the magazine open in front of you.
Speaking quietly but firmly, you say, "I wish this woman was here in this bedroom dressed like this, and was really horny."
The stone flashes in your hand, and you hold your breath.
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