Lisa Loves Old Cunts

Lisa loves old cunts. Blonde, young, and eager—she keeps an older woman who buys her pretty things and fucks her when she asks. Today Effie brings her a tiny scrap of lace, barely-there g-string in pale pink. Lisa strips, steps into the strings, and turns once in the mirror, ass bare, front covered by a single triangle that frames rather than hides. Effie watches from the chair, legs open, one hand already sliding down her own thigh. When Lisa catches her staring she doesn't blush—she drops to her knees, crawls between Effie's spread legs, pushes the silk aside and drags her tongue straight up the wet slit. Slow first. Then firmer. She knows what Effie likes: two fingers curled inside, tongue flat and steady on the clit, suction only when the older woman's hips start to lift. Effie’s fingers twist in her hair, tugging, guiding, holding her there until the first tremor runs through those heavy thighs. Lisa doesn't stop. She stays where she is, mouth open, working, until Effie comes hard against her face and the new g-string is already forgotten on the floor.