Joanne Johansson
Strap On Sweet Hearts #02
Sasha Swift. She carries her name like the only person in the room. The photographer catches her in three-quarter profile, bare shoulders, heavy breasts, the kind of softness that moves when she breathes. One nipple dark against her skin, the other partly hidden by her arm. Her ribs show. Her stomach is a flat plane leading down to a trimmed patch of dark hair and the clear, wet slit between her thighs. The muscles in her inner thighs tense like she’s holding a pose she can’t keep long. Light catches the small of her back, makes the curve of her ass look fuller than it is. She looks bored and hungry at the same time.
Sasha Swift. She carries her name like the only person in the room. The photographer catches her in three-quarter profile, bare shoulders, heavy breasts, the kind of softness that moves when she breathes. One nipple dark against her skin, the other partly hidden by her arm. Her ribs show. Her stomach is a flat plane leading down to a trimmed patch of dark hair and the clear, wet slit between her thighs. The muscles in her inner thighs tense like she’s holding a pose she can’t keep long. Light catches the small of her back, makes the curve of her ass look fuller than it is. She looks bored and hungry at the same time.