Bookworm babes

Boroka’s eyes widened at the spread of filth on my floor. Instead of hiding anything, I pulled a handful of my favorite fuck-books off the shelf and opened them in front of her, flipping from one grease-smeared page to another: graphic straps digging deep, tongues pushed into heat, wet fingers working. She bit her lip, hips already restless. Before the page cooled she was flushed and soaked, greedy to read more and ride.