Milky way

Forget the whole starry-eyed tease. Blue Angel knows exactly what she wants. She spreads herself on clean white sheets and reaches for the silicone without ceremony. One toy presses to her pussy—thick, veined, impossible to miss—and she eases it inside until her lips grip the base. A smaller one waits, already slick; she works that into her arse with the same greedy push. Both holes full now, she rocks her hips, finding the angle that makes the double stretch bite harder. Her breathing sharpens; thighs quiver. She fucks herself in firm, hungry strokes, switching from slow grinds to quick, snapping thrusts whenever the pleasure starts to crest. Sweat pearls at her collarbone. She moans through parted lips, chasing the next spike without shame or apology, lost to the steady rhythm of silicone sliding in and out of her.