The Rudest Nudist

Desiree could not focus. Skye refused to wear clothes, and her naked body moved through their shared apartment with shameless ease. Every glimpse of her breasts or curve of her ass pulled Desiree’s thoughts away from simple tasks. She cornered Skye in the kitchen. “If you insist on staying bare,” Desiree said, “I want more than a free show.” Skye smiled, slow and warm. “Then take what you want.” Minutes later, Skye lay pinned to the bed, wrists bound with her own satin belt. Desiree worked a thick, glossy strap-on between the blonde’s thighs until her hips lifted to meet every thrust. The slick sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, punctuated by the hard snap of Desiree’s palm striking Skye’s ass. Each slap earned a sharp gasp, followed by a low, hungry moan when Desiree pushed deeper and ground the base against her own clit. Skye begged for it rougher. Desiree gave it to her, yanking her hips back to drive the strap deeper, harder, relentless. The headboard knocked the wall in steady rhythm until Skye cried out, shaking around the shaft buried inside her. Desiree held her down until the trembling ebbed, then eased out and pressed two fingers against Skye’s slick, swollen clit until another sharp climax rolled through her. Finished, Desiree peeled off the harness and left Skye sprawled, flushed, and grinning in the ruined sheets. “Happy?” Skye teased. Desiree only answered with a kiss and a quiet promise: “This happens again whenever you feel like testing me.”