Erika Venus
With my girlfriend
Erika Venus stands five-eight and weighs a neat one-twelve. Slim hips. Small breasts. Eyes the color of weak coffee. Born in 1987, so twenty-five now. People see her and assume reels of hardcore, years of practice. The record says otherwise. One shoot survives. In it she lies on white sheets while a busty blonde works two fingers inside her. Erika’s mouth falls open. Her hips lift. The blonde’s tongue keeps time with the hand. Erika comes with a low, steady sound. Then the harness comes out. Erika climbs between the blonde’s legs, presses the silicone head in deep, and fucks her with slow, deliberate strokes until the blonde thrashes and grabs at her own breasts. Erika never breaks rhythm. She stays exact. Deliberate. Finished, she leans down and kisses the other woman hard, like a promise she means to keep.
Erika Venus stands five-eight and weighs a neat one-twelve. Slim hips. Small breasts. Eyes the color of weak coffee. Born in 1987, so twenty-five now. People see her and assume reels of hardcore, years of practice. The record says otherwise. One shoot survives. In it she lies on white sheets while a busty blonde works two fingers inside her. Erika’s mouth falls open. Her hips lift. The blonde’s tongue keeps time with the hand. Erika comes with a low, steady sound. Then the harness comes out. Erika climbs between the blonde’s legs, presses the silicone head in deep, and fucks her with slow, deliberate strokes until the blonde thrashes and grabs at her own breasts. Erika never breaks rhythm. She stays exact. Deliberate. Finished, she leans down and kisses the other woman hard, like a promise she means to keep.