Lola Loves Remy

I’ve had my eye on Remy LaCroix for months. The day we finally meet, I study the things we share—freckles across bare shoulders, matching heart-shaped asses, small natural breasts that sway when we lean close, the same thick brunette hair. What pulls me most is how completely she owns her body. In the fantasy, clothes vanish fast. She turns, spreads her cheeks and I drop to my knees. My tongue finds her first—slow circles at the rim, then deeper, slipping inside the tight ring while she pushes back for more. The taste of her, the little pulses she gives against my mouth, it drives me. I reach for the massive plug, slick it heavy and ease it forward. Remy groans as the widest part stretches her open. I fuck her with it, slow, deep strokes that have her gripping the sheets. When she catches her breath she takes the cool glass toy from my hand. She parts me the same way. The smooth shaft glides inside my ass, filling me until the base presses my skin. She works it with steady rhythm until I shake. Two bodies locked in motion, heat rising, both of us lost to the slick stretch and the raw need to come undone together.