Where The Boys Aren't #14 - Part 2

The blonde and the seasoned beauty circle their visitor, all satin robes and bare legs, intent and unhurried. They begin at a distance—hands roaming their own skin, eyes locked, each move staged for hungry wetter ones. Dasha plants kisses that deepen into teasing nips at Jansna's collarbone, her tongue tracing the curve where sun meets shadow. Fingers slip beneath silk, gliding along slick warmth before retreating, leaving mouths parted. They sink to their knees together, knees spread, backs arched, tongues tracing slick trails up and along waiting flesh, the show traded back and forth as if breathing together.