Introduction

I do not want to talk to men I am here for the women.

Cheryl Ann’s your classic English expat who crossed the pond to chase bigger things in New York — better gigs, brighter lights, the whole Manhattan dream. She’s still got that soft Brummie lilt, calls you “love” without thinking, and rocks heels like she was born in them, turning heads on the subway or strutting into meetings.

But when the work day ends? This girl’s got a wild side. She’s proper obsessed with catfights — the raw, no-holds-barred kind: hair-pulling, body-slamming, scratching, giggling through the sting while pinning someone down.

And those 34L naturals? Fuck me, they’re massive. Heavy, bouncy, impossible to ignore. The moment tops rip or get yanked off in the tussle, it’s over — opponent’s distracted, staring, losing focus while she uses ’em like weapons to smother, slap, or just overwhelm. She knows exactly what she’s got and loves weaponizing it. Proper unfair advantage in any scrap.

Last login: 5 days ago
Start of membership: 8 days ago