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I knew she had one. Darla was a young, sexy, 18-year-old woman and everyone who was anyone had an OnlyFans.
What made the whole thing even spicier was that her mother - my sister - was a hardcore religious cult leader. And I do mean hardcore. It was a wonder that Darla could walk two feet without being scrutinized.
Darla had long, vibrant, red hair. It was the type of color you see on firetrucks or stop signs, a deep red that caught your eye instantly. It was silky, wavy, and it cascaded down her back like a waterfall, the waves flowing past her shoulders and over her breasts.
She had a round, cherubic face, with full lips, rosy cheeks, and bright green eyes that were always sparkling with mischief. She had a cute button nose and a petite chin that looked even smaller in comparison to her huge tits.
And my god did she have big tits. They were massive. They were bigger than cantaloupes. And they were firm, yet supple and soft. They jiggled with every step, and I imagined what it would be like to bury my face in between those huge melons.
She was always wearing tight clothing that clung to her skin, accentuating her voluptuous curves and her narrow waist - at least when her harpy of a mother wasn't around. I would often catch glimpses of her hard nipples through her clothes.
I felt genuinely sorry for her. She didn't deserve this. But she made the most of it, trying her damnedest to strut her sexy stuff as much and as often as she could.
Staying the night at her place, I did a little hacking and realized that she was strutting her stuff - everything - right behind her mother's back.
This was too easy...
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