Pearl’s legs give; she lowers trembling to the bed again.
Rose’s leer could bleach clothing.
“You certainly don’t care about keeping my belongings clean.” Her fingers thieve: feather quick and awful between Pearl’s thighs from behind, and come back bright and slippery. “Look at this mess. Shameless.” The slick makes the impact extra colorful for the next two dolloping spanks -- brusque and businesslike. Posture flat to the bed like this, the flesh becomes lax, and softer. Safer to frost with a little brutal sugar.
She indulges in a squeeze: the skin of her ass is glowing tart. A crackling little taste for Rose’s sweet tooth. “Shameless, filthy little thing.” The squeeze rolls into a knead and then another smack before Rose shifts herself for a better angle, coming to kneel just outside of Pearl’s left leg.
‘Please,’ crumbles, though, a ’please.’
“‘Please’?” Rose wants to eat it right out of her mouth. Her fingers trail to the softer inner of thigh to trace nails there, a glimmer of threat. “Please what? Surely not you.” Four little nibbles in the vulnerable flesh. Her other hand plays along the baking pink of Pearl’s ass -- easy, idle, maple-colored strokes, early-shaping the next wave of swats.
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Rose’s leer could bleach clothing.
“You certainly don’t care about keeping my belongings clean.” Her fingers thieve: feather quick and awful between Pearl’s thighs from behind, and come back bright and slippery. “Look at this mess. Shameless.” The slick makes the impact extra colorful for the next two dolloping spanks -- brusque and businesslike. Posture flat to the bed like this, the flesh becomes lax, and softer. Safer to frost with a little brutal sugar.
She indulges in a squeeze: the skin of her ass is glowing tart. A crackling little taste for Rose’s sweet tooth. “Shameless, filthy little thing.” The squeeze rolls into a knead and then another smack before Rose shifts herself for a better angle, coming to kneel just outside of Pearl’s left leg.
‘Please,’ crumbles, though, a ’please.’
“‘Please’?” Rose wants to eat it right out of her mouth. Her fingers trail to the softer inner of thigh to trace nails there, a glimmer of threat. “Please what? Surely not you.” Four little nibbles in the vulnerable flesh. Her other hand plays along the baking pink of Pearl’s ass -- easy, idle, maple-colored strokes, early-shaping the next wave of swats.
“What, then? Tell me.”