Angelina M
Shave My Pussy And I'll Shave Yours #02
She answered the door in nothing but silk and skin. Black robe tied loose at her waist, the color vanishing against the night behind her. I followed her into the apartment without a word. She didn’t ask me to wait. Didn’t offer a drink. Just slipped the knot free and let the silk slide down her back, pooling at her feet. She walked ahead, slow and deliberate, each step rolling through her hips like she knew exactly what the sight did to me. The room smelled like warm skin and something expensive. Candlelight caught the curve of her ass, the line of her spine, the faint shadow where her thighs brushed. I caught her at the bedroom door and pressed my palm flat against the small of her back, pushing her forward until her knees hit the edge of the bed. She bent over without protest, hands braced on the mattress, legs parted just enough to show the glistening heat between them. I dropped behind her, mouth to the crease where ass met thigh, tongue dragging slow and firm until her breath caught. When I stood, I kept one hand on her hip and lined myself up with the other. The first push was steady, deep enough that she gasped and her fingers clutched the sheets. She was tight and slick, each stroke met with a wet sound that filled the quiet room. I watched myself disappear into her, watched the way her back arched and her shoulder blades shifted under flushed skin. Her name was Mika. I said it once, low, right before I grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her back. After that there was only the steady slap of skin, the creak of the bed, and the sound of her breathing like she’d forgotten how to do anything else.
She answered the door in nothing but silk and skin. Black robe tied loose at her waist, the color vanishing against the night behind her. I followed her into the apartment without a word. She didn’t ask me to wait. Didn’t offer a drink. Just slipped the knot free and let the silk slide down her back, pooling at her feet. She walked ahead, slow and deliberate, each step rolling through her hips like she knew exactly what the sight did to me. The room smelled like warm skin and something expensive. Candlelight caught the curve of her ass, the line of her spine, the faint shadow where her thighs brushed. I caught her at the bedroom door and pressed my palm flat against the small of her back, pushing her forward until her knees hit the edge of the bed. She bent over without protest, hands braced on the mattress, legs parted just enough to show the glistening heat between them. I dropped behind her, mouth to the crease where ass met thigh, tongue dragging slow and firm until her breath caught. When I stood, I kept one hand on her hip and lined myself up with the other. The first push was steady, deep enough that she gasped and her fingers clutched the sheets. She was tight and slick, each stroke met with a wet sound that filled the quiet room. I watched myself disappear into her, watched the way her back arched and her shoulder blades shifted under flushed skin. Her name was Mika. I said it once, low, right before I grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her back. After that there was only the steady slap of skin, the creak of the bed, and the sound of her breathing like she’d forgotten how to do anything else.