which celebrity would you love to fuck?
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Adrock1981
shake that thang
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good choiceGirl crush
LouiseSuffolk
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So many celebrities I would like to fuck, but there is a common theme! X
And here is another - Salma Hayek
And here is another - Salma Hayek
ClockworkFox
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Actually, what I'm going to tell you is the other way round, a celebrity who wants to fuck ME. Itās not something I care to bother people with, of course. I try to put it to the back of my mind and get on with my life. But a while back there it had come to a head. The inebriated phone calls at four in the morning, the e-mails. The WhatsApps every five minutes demanding to know where I am, what Iām doing and who Iām doing it with, the doorstepping, the scenes in public, the altercations, the affrays ā¦ but I thought sheād been scared off when I said Iād have a restraining order served on her.
And it was then that the threats started. So you canāt be too careful. They get frustrated with the non-response after a while, and the next step is always violence. So I let my loved ones know where I am at all times. If I go anywhere, I always sit with my back to the wall with a view of the door. Walls are good. Or a window seat to keep an eye on whatās going on outside. If I take the metro or the bus, I always take the seat beside the exit, and invariably go to places where there are people. People = safe, harassment experts and psychiatrists have told me. Other than that, they say, you can live a normal life. But the truth is that, as I walk the streets, I cannot live a normal life, because I am stalked nevertheless. Stalked by fear.
And any attempt at a normal life means doing normal things, so yesterday afternoon I did the usual fruit and veg jaunt. I bought my broad beans first, as usual. For my famous broad bean stew. Famous around here, anyway. Many people, surprisingly, don't like broad beans, but I do. And I have a special recipe. What I do with the beans is, first of all ... sorry, I tend to go off at a tangent sometimes. Just stop me if I do it again.
...
Anyway, there I was, with my hand in a plastic glove, throwing my broad beans into a bag, and imagine my astonishment when she strides up. There she was again. Keira Knightley. I swear, the girl came out of nowhere. I think I hadnāt seen her because she was standing in profile at first. If you know what I mean.
āWhatever you do,ā Iād been told, ānever engage Keira Knightley. No matter what she says or does. Simply ignore her.ā And so I moved on to the celery and peas. Keira Knightley followed me, of course:
āWhy wonāt you return my calls?ā shrieked Keira Knightley. āDo you seriously prefer that celery to me? Peas? What do peas have that I donāt?ā
People were beginning to look, but I didnāt even shrug at her craziness, because I was so used to hearing this kind of illogical babble from Keira Knightley. I didnāt panic, remembered what the experts had told me, and moved on to the tomatoes like she wasnāt even there.
Luvvies hate being ignored, naturally. Keira Knightley stood there with head bowed, visibly trembling. Then she raised it very, very slowly and looked at me with narrowed eyes, the mascara smudged and running. Then she lowered it. Then she kept her head down, and simply raised her eyes to look up at me under the lids. For crying out loud. Itās all drama with these people. They canāt brush their fucking teeth without staring at the toothbrush and croaking āIs this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?ā
āHow can you have forgotten about me?ā she wept. āDonāt you remember our night of unbridled passion in Kingās Lynn?ā
Now, I know this makes me look bad, a real scoundrel, an unfeeling monster, but for your information, the āunbridled passionā was a knee-trembler fifteen years ago behind a stack of wooden pallets around the back of Sainsburyās. Sheād latched on to me after climbing up on her stool and dancing on the bar in the Fox and Hounds, see, and then suddenly it was chucking-out time, and I did what I had to do to get shot of the bint later, but you know what theyāre like. They always have one eye on an imaginary clapperboard for the take.
āTen times in as many minutes!ā a distraught Keira Knightley sobbed, thrusting out her chest - as well she might, because, well, you know what I mean - flinging her arms out at a perfect 90Āŗ and staring up at the ceiling, and shaking her head sorrowfully. Her arms descended ever so slowly to her sides, and she clasped her hands as she half-whispered to the onions, potatoes and broccoli in their boxes: āTell me, who has ten orgasms in ten minutes? Who does that? Who even does that? Why? Why? Why and wherefore, I say?ā
Now, I must say, that one was a little below the belt, the bit about the orgasms. Because she had one too. Yes, she came all over the place as well. Definitely. Well, probably. I think she did. Likely as not. As far as I remember. Maybe. Didnāt really notice, to tell you the truth. Come on, you know what we blokes are like ...
The owner of the shop came over. He rolled his eyes. āKeira Knightley again, is it? Jesus. Donāt worry. Iāll call the coppers.ā
āNo,ā I said firmly. āThatās exactly what she wants. Thatās what she needs. Thatās what she craves. A scene. Excitement. Tension. And sheās obviously unarmed this time. Iāll tough it out. Itās OK, really.ā
...
And it was then that the threats started. So you canāt be too careful. They get frustrated with the non-response after a while, and the next step is always violence. So I let my loved ones know where I am at all times. If I go anywhere, I always sit with my back to the wall with a view of the door. Walls are good. Or a window seat to keep an eye on whatās going on outside. If I take the metro or the bus, I always take the seat beside the exit, and invariably go to places where there are people. People = safe, harassment experts and psychiatrists have told me. Other than that, they say, you can live a normal life. But the truth is that, as I walk the streets, I cannot live a normal life, because I am stalked nevertheless. Stalked by fear.
And any attempt at a normal life means doing normal things, so yesterday afternoon I did the usual fruit and veg jaunt. I bought my broad beans first, as usual. For my famous broad bean stew. Famous around here, anyway. Many people, surprisingly, don't like broad beans, but I do. And I have a special recipe. What I do with the beans is, first of all ... sorry, I tend to go off at a tangent sometimes. Just stop me if I do it again.
...
Anyway, there I was, with my hand in a plastic glove, throwing my broad beans into a bag, and imagine my astonishment when she strides up. There she was again. Keira Knightley. I swear, the girl came out of nowhere. I think I hadnāt seen her because she was standing in profile at first. If you know what I mean.
āWhatever you do,ā Iād been told, ānever engage Keira Knightley. No matter what she says or does. Simply ignore her.ā And so I moved on to the celery and peas. Keira Knightley followed me, of course:
āWhy wonāt you return my calls?ā shrieked Keira Knightley. āDo you seriously prefer that celery to me? Peas? What do peas have that I donāt?ā
People were beginning to look, but I didnāt even shrug at her craziness, because I was so used to hearing this kind of illogical babble from Keira Knightley. I didnāt panic, remembered what the experts had told me, and moved on to the tomatoes like she wasnāt even there.
Luvvies hate being ignored, naturally. Keira Knightley stood there with head bowed, visibly trembling. Then she raised it very, very slowly and looked at me with narrowed eyes, the mascara smudged and running. Then she lowered it. Then she kept her head down, and simply raised her eyes to look up at me under the lids. For crying out loud. Itās all drama with these people. They canāt brush their fucking teeth without staring at the toothbrush and croaking āIs this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?ā
āHow can you have forgotten about me?ā she wept. āDonāt you remember our night of unbridled passion in Kingās Lynn?ā
Now, I know this makes me look bad, a real scoundrel, an unfeeling monster, but for your information, the āunbridled passionā was a knee-trembler fifteen years ago behind a stack of wooden pallets around the back of Sainsburyās. Sheād latched on to me after climbing up on her stool and dancing on the bar in the Fox and Hounds, see, and then suddenly it was chucking-out time, and I did what I had to do to get shot of the bint later, but you know what theyāre like. They always have one eye on an imaginary clapperboard for the take.
āTen times in as many minutes!ā a distraught Keira Knightley sobbed, thrusting out her chest - as well she might, because, well, you know what I mean - flinging her arms out at a perfect 90Āŗ and staring up at the ceiling, and shaking her head sorrowfully. Her arms descended ever so slowly to her sides, and she clasped her hands as she half-whispered to the onions, potatoes and broccoli in their boxes: āTell me, who has ten orgasms in ten minutes? Who does that? Who even does that? Why? Why? Why and wherefore, I say?ā
Now, I must say, that one was a little below the belt, the bit about the orgasms. Because she had one too. Yes, she came all over the place as well. Definitely. Well, probably. I think she did. Likely as not. As far as I remember. Maybe. Didnāt really notice, to tell you the truth. Come on, you know what we blokes are like ...
The owner of the shop came over. He rolled his eyes. āKeira Knightley again, is it? Jesus. Donāt worry. Iāll call the coppers.ā
āNo,ā I said firmly. āThatās exactly what she wants. Thatās what she needs. Thatās what she craves. A scene. Excitement. Tension. And sheās obviously unarmed this time. Iāll tough it out. Itās OK, really.ā
...
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summer_reine
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Do they have to be real celebrities? Cause Luffy seems like he'd be pretty fun 
ClockworkFox
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But my problems with Keira Knightley didn't end there. I moved on to the fruit section for my Torres Oranges. I always buy Torres, you know, because they're the best. Other oranges are cheaper, but they're not Spain's Torres Oranges. In that regard, just a brief word now from my story sponsor, Torres Oranges:
Torres Oranges. Simply the best. Better than all the rest. Better than anything. Anything youāve ever eaten. At a fruit and veg shop near you. And now weāre exporting too. Torres Oranges.
I was watching Keira Knightley carefully out of the corner of my eye. She seemed to be addressing the kiwis and pears now:
āI carried his baby, you know,ā Keira Knightley wailed, wringing her hands. āOur love child! A little boy. But he left. He walked away. He spurned me!ā
Well, like I said, I knew the golden rule was not to have any verbal contact with Keira Knightley, never engage, ever, but I wasnāt going to stand for this, plus a crowd was gathering, and I could already hear some muttering: āā¦ did you hear that? ā¦ he ditched her, eh? ā¦ bloody liberty, I call it ā¦ can you believe it? ā¦ should lock them up and throw away the key ā¦ Iād pull the lever myself, me ā¦ā
āLook, Keira Knightley,ā I said, āyou have two children - nine years old and five years old, is it?ā I raised my voice a little for the benefit of the bystanders. āNothing to do with me, you know. People always told me, be careful what you do. Donāt go around breaking young girlsā hearts. And Keira Knightley is not my love. Sheās just a girl who thinks that I am the one. But the child is not my son.ā ā¦ Yes, I know. But I thought it had a kind of a ring to it ā¦
āBut I lost him!ā screeched Keira Knightley. āOf course I did. I lost our child. He knew, you see, the boy knew. Even still in my womb, he knew he could never be fully loved by a man and a woman ā¦ā her head bowed again. Suddenly it jerked up, and Keira Knightley placed one hand on her forehead, palm outwards. āOh my, I think Iām going to swoon!ā she squeaked.
Swoon? Really? Jesus, I mean, who says that? You might say, āOh, Iām coming over a little queerā or āGod, I think Iām going to faintā, but āOh my, Iām going to swoon?ā Whatever it was, Keira Knightley did seem to swoon ā or faint ā and she swooned ā or fainted - all over a load of display boxes. Suddenly Keira Knightley was on the floor, with cardboard boxes and Torres oranges rolling all around her ...
Torres Oranges. Your rough, coarse hands glide over glistening wet skin. Open it up. Inhale the rich smell of the soft, tempting, exotic flesh at your mouth. Aaah. Run your tongue ever so slowly all around it with narrowed eyes and a mocking smile. Thatās right. Lick it. Slurp it. Nibble it. And then eat it. Itās yours, and no one elseās. Show it whoās boss. Own it. Feel that juice running down your chin, over your tongue, and down your throat. Torres Oranges.
āWhatās all this?ā said a voice at my side. RamĆ³n, the main Torres Oranges man, dressed in a sharp suit, had just come in the door, over from Spain:
I snorted as I watched a couple of customers helping the sobbing Keira Knightley up amid all the oranges on the floor: āOh, nothing, itās just this actress who ā¦ ā¦ well, actually, RamĆ³n ā¦ she was causing a bit of an affray here, yes, yes ā¦ yes, she was."
I was thinking on my feet, see. I saw an opportunity to rid myself of Keira Knightley once and for all.
"Creating a terrible scene," I went on. "Dreadful, it was ā in she came, shouting and screaming about how crappy Torres oranges are, and how sheād never ever buy them, and that nobody should buy Torres oranges, a health hazard, she even said, and then, well, she just started throwing all the Torres boxes on the floor, look."
āShe what? An actress? Isnāt that ā¦ oh yes, I know who it is. I saw her in The Danish Girl. And one of the Jason Bourne films, too. Bloody Scandinavians. Iāll take care of this lass, donāt you worry.ā
He strode over and took Keira Knightley roughly by the arm, and headed for the exit with the distraught actress. āYouāre out of here, Alicia Vikander. Weāre going down to the police station to see a friend of mine. You people insult our oranges because you donāt have any yourselves, only fjords, expensive booze, assassins of prime ministers, and premium no-limits porn. The nerve of you people, how dare ā¦ā and his voice faded as they reached the street.
I could hear two old ladies discussing all this, rather loudly too, since both of them seemed to be slightly hard of hearing:
āWho was that pretty young lady, Doris? Isnāt she one of those actresses? Oh, yes, yes, she is, she was the daughter in Downton Abbey, wasnāt she? Dear me. The one ā¦ you know ā¦ who got into all that ā¦ well ā¦ā - she lowered her voice a little ā ā ā¦ that trouble ā¦ with that man. The man who died. In her ā¦ in her, you know, in her ā¦ her boudoir, Doris. Scandal, Doris, scandal! It happens in the best families, you know. I'm not sure it didn't happen in EastEnders, too. Or maybe it was Coronation Street ...?"
āNo, Edith, that was Michelle Dockery. This girl was ā¦ā
āNo, donāt tell me, donāt tell me, dear. Itās that one who plays a poor unfortunate girl down on her luck, forced to ā¦ oh, you know,ā she half-whispered in horror, āā¦ do things ā¦ terrible things ā¦ horrible, ungodly, unholy things ā¦ with, with ā¦ men ā¦ with lots of men ā¦ for ā¦ for money, you know ā¦ and then she meets a multimillionaire with vertigo who changes her life forever.ā
āNo, Edith, that was Julia Roberts. This is ā¦ā
āNo, no, I know who it is now, my dear. Itās the actress with THAT dress. The disgusting, depraved, lewd one, you know. All those gold safety pins holding a skimpy piece of cloth together and all her ā¦ bits, you know ā¦ hanging out so shamelessly and wantonly, do you remember? I mean, really, such goings-on.ā
āNo, Edith, this one's Keira Knightley. You mean Liz Hurley.ā
āLiz Hurley?ā
āYes, you know. She was Hugh Grantās girlfriend. Hugh Grant. Heās an actor who ā¦ā
Edith snorted. āAs if I didnāt know who Hugh Grant is! Heās the one who got caught by the filth in LA with his Y-fronts around his ankles and a two-bit hooker giving him a ten-dollar tackle-shocker. With butterfly flicks included. And a right shocker it must have been too ā I mean, the cops only came over because they say the car brake lights kept flashing on and off as he flailed around and his foot kept stamping on the pedal.ā
I went over to where Fred the shop manager was picking up all the oranges and putting them back into their boxes.
āWell,ā he said, āRamĆ³n seems to have settled her hash. Looks like youāre rid of Keira Knightley.ā
āYes, Fred,ā I said grimly. āIām rid of Keira Knightley.ā Then I took my sunglasses out of my breast pocket, and put them on very slowly. I looked at him with my head on one side. All like David Caruso does in CSI Miami, ready for one of those non sequitur remarks that ends the take. āUntil next time, that is ...ā
Torres Oranges. Possibly the best oranges in the world. Torres Oranges refresh the parts other oranges cannot reach. Keira Knightley has been known to swoon over Torres Oranges. Torres Oranges.
...
Torres Oranges. Simply the best. Better than all the rest. Better than anything. Anything youāve ever eaten. At a fruit and veg shop near you. And now weāre exporting too. Torres Oranges.
I was watching Keira Knightley carefully out of the corner of my eye. She seemed to be addressing the kiwis and pears now:
āI carried his baby, you know,ā Keira Knightley wailed, wringing her hands. āOur love child! A little boy. But he left. He walked away. He spurned me!ā
Well, like I said, I knew the golden rule was not to have any verbal contact with Keira Knightley, never engage, ever, but I wasnāt going to stand for this, plus a crowd was gathering, and I could already hear some muttering: āā¦ did you hear that? ā¦ he ditched her, eh? ā¦ bloody liberty, I call it ā¦ can you believe it? ā¦ should lock them up and throw away the key ā¦ Iād pull the lever myself, me ā¦ā
āLook, Keira Knightley,ā I said, āyou have two children - nine years old and five years old, is it?ā I raised my voice a little for the benefit of the bystanders. āNothing to do with me, you know. People always told me, be careful what you do. Donāt go around breaking young girlsā hearts. And Keira Knightley is not my love. Sheās just a girl who thinks that I am the one. But the child is not my son.ā ā¦ Yes, I know. But I thought it had a kind of a ring to it ā¦
āBut I lost him!ā screeched Keira Knightley. āOf course I did. I lost our child. He knew, you see, the boy knew. Even still in my womb, he knew he could never be fully loved by a man and a woman ā¦ā her head bowed again. Suddenly it jerked up, and Keira Knightley placed one hand on her forehead, palm outwards. āOh my, I think Iām going to swoon!ā she squeaked.
Swoon? Really? Jesus, I mean, who says that? You might say, āOh, Iām coming over a little queerā or āGod, I think Iām going to faintā, but āOh my, Iām going to swoon?ā Whatever it was, Keira Knightley did seem to swoon ā or faint ā and she swooned ā or fainted - all over a load of display boxes. Suddenly Keira Knightley was on the floor, with cardboard boxes and Torres oranges rolling all around her ...
Torres Oranges. Your rough, coarse hands glide over glistening wet skin. Open it up. Inhale the rich smell of the soft, tempting, exotic flesh at your mouth. Aaah. Run your tongue ever so slowly all around it with narrowed eyes and a mocking smile. Thatās right. Lick it. Slurp it. Nibble it. And then eat it. Itās yours, and no one elseās. Show it whoās boss. Own it. Feel that juice running down your chin, over your tongue, and down your throat. Torres Oranges.
āWhatās all this?ā said a voice at my side. RamĆ³n, the main Torres Oranges man, dressed in a sharp suit, had just come in the door, over from Spain:
I snorted as I watched a couple of customers helping the sobbing Keira Knightley up amid all the oranges on the floor: āOh, nothing, itās just this actress who ā¦ ā¦ well, actually, RamĆ³n ā¦ she was causing a bit of an affray here, yes, yes ā¦ yes, she was."
I was thinking on my feet, see. I saw an opportunity to rid myself of Keira Knightley once and for all.
"Creating a terrible scene," I went on. "Dreadful, it was ā in she came, shouting and screaming about how crappy Torres oranges are, and how sheād never ever buy them, and that nobody should buy Torres oranges, a health hazard, she even said, and then, well, she just started throwing all the Torres boxes on the floor, look."
āShe what? An actress? Isnāt that ā¦ oh yes, I know who it is. I saw her in The Danish Girl. And one of the Jason Bourne films, too. Bloody Scandinavians. Iāll take care of this lass, donāt you worry.ā
He strode over and took Keira Knightley roughly by the arm, and headed for the exit with the distraught actress. āYouāre out of here, Alicia Vikander. Weāre going down to the police station to see a friend of mine. You people insult our oranges because you donāt have any yourselves, only fjords, expensive booze, assassins of prime ministers, and premium no-limits porn. The nerve of you people, how dare ā¦ā and his voice faded as they reached the street.
I could hear two old ladies discussing all this, rather loudly too, since both of them seemed to be slightly hard of hearing:
āWho was that pretty young lady, Doris? Isnāt she one of those actresses? Oh, yes, yes, she is, she was the daughter in Downton Abbey, wasnāt she? Dear me. The one ā¦ you know ā¦ who got into all that ā¦ well ā¦ā - she lowered her voice a little ā ā ā¦ that trouble ā¦ with that man. The man who died. In her ā¦ in her, you know, in her ā¦ her boudoir, Doris. Scandal, Doris, scandal! It happens in the best families, you know. I'm not sure it didn't happen in EastEnders, too. Or maybe it was Coronation Street ...?"
āNo, Edith, that was Michelle Dockery. This girl was ā¦ā
āNo, donāt tell me, donāt tell me, dear. Itās that one who plays a poor unfortunate girl down on her luck, forced to ā¦ oh, you know,ā she half-whispered in horror, āā¦ do things ā¦ terrible things ā¦ horrible, ungodly, unholy things ā¦ with, with ā¦ men ā¦ with lots of men ā¦ for ā¦ for money, you know ā¦ and then she meets a multimillionaire with vertigo who changes her life forever.ā
āNo, Edith, that was Julia Roberts. This is ā¦ā
āNo, no, I know who it is now, my dear. Itās the actress with THAT dress. The disgusting, depraved, lewd one, you know. All those gold safety pins holding a skimpy piece of cloth together and all her ā¦ bits, you know ā¦ hanging out so shamelessly and wantonly, do you remember? I mean, really, such goings-on.ā
āNo, Edith, this one's Keira Knightley. You mean Liz Hurley.ā
āLiz Hurley?ā
āYes, you know. She was Hugh Grantās girlfriend. Hugh Grant. Heās an actor who ā¦ā
Edith snorted. āAs if I didnāt know who Hugh Grant is! Heās the one who got caught by the filth in LA with his Y-fronts around his ankles and a two-bit hooker giving him a ten-dollar tackle-shocker. With butterfly flicks included. And a right shocker it must have been too ā I mean, the cops only came over because they say the car brake lights kept flashing on and off as he flailed around and his foot kept stamping on the pedal.ā
I went over to where Fred the shop manager was picking up all the oranges and putting them back into their boxes.
āWell,ā he said, āRamĆ³n seems to have settled her hash. Looks like youāre rid of Keira Knightley.ā
āYes, Fred,ā I said grimly. āIām rid of Keira Knightley.ā Then I took my sunglasses out of my breast pocket, and put them on very slowly. I looked at him with my head on one side. All like David Caruso does in CSI Miami, ready for one of those non sequitur remarks that ends the take. āUntil next time, that is ...ā
Torres Oranges. Possibly the best oranges in the world. Torres Oranges refresh the parts other oranges cannot reach. Keira Knightley has been known to swoon over Torres Oranges. Torres Oranges.
...
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ClockworkFox
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Salma is just OK, Louise. But terribly clingy. You're sitting on the bed, zipping yourself up and bending down to grab your shirt and get the hell out of there, and she pulls at your arm, starts to go all weepy, says you don't love her any more, that kind of thing, says she'll run out into the street naked if you don't tell her you still love her. That kind of thing.
And the tits just get in the way, quite frankly. Dangerous, too. She reached for an after-sex ciggie on the bedside table the other day, swung around and almost had one of my fricking eyes out with the engorged chapel-peg nipple. And as for the hours of hair-preening and the wailing Do-you-think-I-look-fat-you-do-don't-you? routine, where you're screwed if you say yes, and you're even screwed if you say no, because then it's the You're-only-saying-that-to-make-me-feel-better routine, don't even get me fucking started, love. Walk away, just walk away and keep her as a fantasy, that's my advice.
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ClockworkFox
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I confirm I'm a real person, InterestedBlonde, so you can fuck me if you like. I don't care if you turn your back on me like you're doing there. I prefer you to turn your back on me, in fact, because reverse cowgirl is my position of choice. Drop me a line when you get back from gazing out at the prairie. Bye!I found people's lists here interesting. But when it came to making a list myself, I just couldn't list even one person.
I guess it just became clear to me that I have such a strong preference for real people and don't really consider public personalities "real" enough. They seem manufactured, air-brushed, scripted, etc. I could make such a list of 10 people IRL, but haha don't think that would be of any interest on Lit.
I found people's lists here interesting. But when it came to making a list myself, I just couldn't list even one person.
I guess it just became clear to me that I have such a strong preference for real people and don't really consider public personalities "real" enough. They seem manufactured, air-brushed, scripted, etc. I could make such a list of 10 people IRL, but haha don't think that would be of any interest on Lit.
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InYourPanties
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Gillian Anderson. Hands down. My first crush.
InterestedBlonde
Virgin
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- Jul 14, 2024
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Thank you for that helpful confirmation and insight into your tastes. I appreciate your generosity!
All time favorites:
Diana Rigg (in her Emma Peel days)
Diane Lane
Christy Brinkley
Salma Hayek
Caroline Munro (Spy who loved me)
Priyanka Chopra
Pam Grier
Seung Chae Kim (instagram Korean model)
Ssunbiki (instagram Korean model)
Xxapplee (instagram Korean model)
Diana Rigg (in her Emma Peel days)
Diane Lane
Christy Brinkley
Salma Hayek
Caroline Munro (Spy who loved me)
Priyanka Chopra
Pam Grier
Seung Chae Kim (instagram Korean model)
Ssunbiki (instagram Korean model)
Xxapplee (instagram Korean model)
BoredIndianaDad49
Virgin
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- Sep 22, 2024
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- 26
1. Gal Gadot
2. Salma Hayek
3. Brie Larsen
4. Halle Berry
5. Anya Taylor Joy
6. Priyanka Chopra
7. Simone Biles
8. Cameron Brink
9. Kelsie Plum
10.
2. Salma Hayek
3. Brie Larsen
4. Halle Berry
5. Anya Taylor Joy
6. Priyanka Chopra
7. Simone Biles
8. Cameron Brink
9. Kelsie Plum
10.
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FreckledSprite
I Have Blue Tubes
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masterslave00
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It's often someone from what I am watching - right now, I am watching Bosch: Legacy so it is Madison Lintz:
Noone45
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Abd he is good at eatingDo they have to be real celebrities? Cause Luffy seems like he'd be pretty fun
I go with Robin and nami
Goldenfinger
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I donāt get the celebrity thing. They usually donāt look how we see them on movies. Iāve seen Way better looking women out shopping at HEB.
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LustyScribe
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2019
- Posts
- 4,614
1. Salma Hayek (call me, Salma!)
2. Alexandra Daddario
3. Deborah Ann Woll
4. Kaley Cuoco
5. Demi Moore
6. Morena Baccarin
7. Salma Hayek (see, Salma? I'm THAT committed to you!)
8. Billie Eilish
9. Mary Louise Parker
10. Fake Jannsen
11. Salma...? You out there, baby...?
2. Alexandra Daddario
3. Deborah Ann Woll
4. Kaley Cuoco
5. Demi Moore
6. Morena Baccarin
7. Salma Hayek (see, Salma? I'm THAT committed to you!)
8. Billie Eilish
9. Mary Louise Parker
10. Fake Jannsen
11. Salma...? You out there, baby...?
masterslave00
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Nov 12, 2011
- Posts
- 11,089
New series to binge, new crushes:
- Olivia Thrilby
- Tania Raymonde
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