Rose almost regrets how neatly Pearl moves to comply… had she waited a bit longer, maybe she could wring some stumbling and fumbling from the dancer. God, that would be cute.
But Pearl obeys, and she has to croon approval. Tugs her closer, even, until her damp back is brushing the front of Rose’s shirt. Her flesh is warm enough to send a shiver through the cloth, sticking humid and wishful as August, and hunger stirs heavy in Rose.
“Better.” Pearl’s hands over her head -- sometimes by order, sometimes by ties -- is always a lovely sight. Toothsome symmetry of latissimi and shoulder and pectoral and breast. But especially now, when Rose can reach from behind… can toy with the slight softness of her slim chest, can stroke the tremble of sinew in her belly. “Not perfect, but better.”
Can nibble her fill along the creamy curve of her neck.
“And so pretty...” Rose lets the pads of her fingers tease along Pearl’s navel, curious to see how strong her conviction is to keep her hands still. Her other hand, in the meantime, thumbs the nozzle to a softer setting again: brings the water to play over her waist. Lowering by dizzying inches. “Shame that such a pretty girl is so messy."
The water dips -- abrupt and stark as vertigo -- below the tender notch of navel, just grazing between her thighs. "You want to be good, though. Don't you, sweet thing?"
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But Pearl obeys, and she has to croon approval. Tugs her closer, even, until her damp back is brushing the front of Rose’s shirt. Her flesh is warm enough to send a shiver through the cloth, sticking humid and wishful as August, and hunger stirs heavy in Rose.
“Better.” Pearl’s hands over her head -- sometimes by order, sometimes by ties -- is always a lovely sight. Toothsome symmetry of latissimi and shoulder and pectoral and breast. But especially now, when Rose can reach from behind… can toy with the slight softness of her slim chest, can stroke the tremble of sinew in her belly. “Not perfect, but better.”
Can nibble her fill along the creamy curve of her neck.
“And so pretty...” Rose lets the pads of her fingers tease along Pearl’s navel, curious to see how strong her conviction is to keep her hands still. Her other hand, in the meantime, thumbs the nozzle to a softer setting again: brings the water to play over her waist. Lowering by dizzying inches. “Shame that such a pretty girl is so messy."
The water dips -- abrupt and stark as vertigo -- below the tender notch of navel, just grazing between her thighs. "You want to be good, though. Don't you, sweet thing?"