Madame Fi, honeys, bees, sex

home page

the honey pot

the honeys

the bees

buy stories


about the author


Imanda Cherri Rosa
Katya Jaime Lola

Imanda for Madame FiHoney Four: Rosa - Sex Siren...body language screams COME FUCK ME.

Age: 24

Nationality: Spanish.

Breasts: 33 inch. Pert and pretty.  DD cup.

Waist: 26 inch.

Hips: 36 inch.

Love Cavern: Thin strip aka Rosa’s pathway to heaven.

Dress Size: 8.

Hair: Jet-black, super-shiny mad curls.

Eyes: Darkest brown.

Skin: Rich gypsy-brown.

Specialises:  In driving her Bees WILD with desire.

Piercings: Ears (two in each).

Tattoos: None.

Background:  Abandoned at the tender age of three by her poverty-stricken father at the local orphanage following the death of her mother, Rosa rebelled heavily against the nuns who did their best to raise her as a good, Catholic girl.  All hope was lost to them the day Rosa discovered her special button and the immense pleasure it provided her with.  Expelled from the orphanage at the age of seventeen by the now frantic nuns whom she had driven to absolute despair, she turned to her favourite pastime to survive.  Men adore her ‘come fuck me’ attitude. 

Sexy Secret: No matter what the question, to Rosa, the answer is always fucking.  She loves all forms of it and the more forbidden, the better.  For as long as she could remember, she has been filled with the hope of finding her father, who had abandoned her following the death of her mother.  Having searched her beloved Spain with no success, she packed her bags and left the Country for the near impossible task of finding him. She fucked her way through France and Germany following cold lead, after cold lead. She met a handsome sailor on her last night before heading home.  They had spent the afternoon drinking at a local bar before making wild, passionate-love all night in a cheap hotel.  The following morning as he slept soundly and she was tiptoeing around trying to find her knickers, she decided to help herself to a little something from his wallet, after all there is no such thing as a free ride.  As she pulled a fifty Euro note from the very back of the soft leather, an old battered photograph fell to the floor.  It was an exact copy of her most precious possession, the small photograph that she had in her purse.  The only surviving link to that of her parents.  It was of her much adored father, with his arm around her mother’s back and the two year old Rosa is smiling up into the face of the very same man she had spent the previous night with.

                      Madame Fi


Madame Fi
copyright 2018