Greetings, cooter cravers, it's Charlie O'Neal, your standard bearer for ordinary horndogs. Right now, I'm feeling like a real man. That's because I just had a real woman! No "don't touch me," no "let's just be friends," no handshake and fucking off. Just a pleasant time that resulted in hot photos for you sick fucks to enjoy, and a chance for me to shoot my load in the proper manner.
Now, I'm normally an advocate of that "don't shit where you eat" rule. Meaning I would never date some chick I worked with, no matter what sexual delights she promised me. (Well, if she was that fucking hot, I'd quit or get her fired!) But, really, I've never trolled the complex where I live for likely candidates for NN. There have been a couple of instances that just happened, but if I didn't abide by my rule (sorta), there could have been handfuls of them. So, meet Lynna. She's 25 and works in one of those health food restaurants where the staff are always way too fucking happy and you wonder what natural "pick me up" they're using out the back.