I've had this odd Sofia Vergara fantasy for some time now and I really need to get it off my chest
I'm a little person. No, I'm not a dwarf, but some type of Martian ray-gun or maybe global warming gases have shrunk me to no more than the size of a thimble -- a thimble I hide under while a seamstress sews the buttockal portion of a Sofia Vergara dress that has ripped asunder by sheer force of mighty cheeks. While the sewing lady has her back turned, I make my move, leaping from the table onto Sofia's lower leg. From there, I ascend her taut gam northward in search of adventure, adventure I find the minute I'm above her hemline, in a magical lands of wonderful textures and smells. Without any hesitation, I continue ascending toward the heavens until, there, I spot it, Sofia Vergara is completely commando, her Colombian delight laid out right before my eyes. This is the point when Sofia feels me poking around her undercrackers, lifts her dress to expose the little man exploring her very personal spaces. She screams. I need to hide, but where? Where? Ah, yes. I plunge into the warm embrace of sanctuary. And I'm not seen or heard from for several weeks thereafter while Sofia wears a permanent smile about town.
Check out the hose-and--panties upskirt Sofia Vergara was flashing over the weekend at a pimping Kmart event and see if you aren't inspired toward your own Vergara imaginary escapades. Enjoy.
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