Maisie was no exception to this rule – no, she was such a little actress.You know the type I mean; always over-the-top, always affected, similar to a younger Anne Hathaway, forever eager to impress and prove to the world that she was unique.Still, though, nights like this would always remind him that he was at the mercy of a true Hollywood diva, and that he’d simply have to put up with her demanding, high-maintenance way of life if he wanted to continue dating her.Suddenly, in the middle of his reflective day-dreaming, the bathroom door nudged open, and from the quarter-opened gateway emerged Maisie.All Tom could do was feed into her ego, to nourish it and pretend it wasn’t a strange, new world to him – at first, anyway.Eventually her attitude and ego grew to be very endearing to him, and her confidence and willingness to show off – especially in bed – pleased him to no end.
his story is entirely fictional and is in no way connected with the subject.
She was such a sexy, raven-haired little nymph at her core, and it was never more apparent than when she pranced around freely in her bra and panties.
The way her jet black hair danced over the milky white flesh of her back, that was when he admired and loved her most, despite the eight year difference in age between them. I haven’t even been dressed and you’re trying to get me out of my knickers already! “Now, now, I didn’t say anything about that, did I?
Once again, time on the clock was ticking away and Maisie Williams was taking an eternity to get herself ready.
Of the few, and I do mean very few, drawbacks to dating a celebrity, one of them was that every social outing required several hours of preparation, moreso than even the most vain, average female citizen.The girl was moaning and whimpering against his bulge, loving the feel of it’s thickness and heat against her young face.