Normally leather pants wrapped around Kelly Brook's fine lower regions would be the primary draw in any set of pics taken of my favorite of all English hotties. However, those seductive eyes she's flashing at unknown parties are overruling the leather-bound goodness happening further down on her. What I wouldn't give to have Kelly look at me like that, with barely contained desire seething in her like a mad beast ready to go insane all over me. Of course, that's a prospect that sounds fantastic in theory. Were any of us actually presented the incredible good fortune of time alone with Kelly, I doubt many would have the slightest idea what to do with her. That's why women like her usually stick with men who enjoy similar access to a wide swath of potential partners. For Kelly, slumming with a regular guy would be akin to petting a stray alley dog. Sure the dog feels good, but all she'd get for her trouble is a lot of slobber and some ratty thing following her around everywhere.
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