[ Nami's shoulders tense, fighting to keep her breathing under control as every firm rap of the crop against her backside sends a jolt of startling pleasure straight to her cunt. She's ached to be touched before, the trappings of his casino have made sure that Nami's become no stranger to this primal variety of longing, but that there's nothing beyond Mitsuru herself making Nami feel this way now makes it all the more rare and real.
Mitsuru's crop comes down harder, and she can't suppress the soft sigh that passes her lips in response, her hips unconsciously rocking back against the touch, a not unpleasant burn left behind by that firmer strike, a sensation that leaves her wondering after the marks her friend's currently leaving behind.
Another, louder groan escapes her when Mitsuru asks if she's getting wet from this, the slicked up heat of her entrance clenching tightly, as though her body's waiting to be filled. ]
So wet Mistress. [ There's a soft neediness threading through her voice, a tone that doesn't often work its way into the way Nami speaks. ]
no subject
Mitsuru's crop comes down harder, and she can't suppress the soft sigh that passes her lips in response, her hips unconsciously rocking back against the touch, a not unpleasant burn left behind by that firmer strike, a sensation that leaves her wondering after the marks her friend's currently leaving behind.
Another, louder groan escapes her when Mitsuru asks if she's getting wet from this, the slicked up heat of her entrance clenching tightly, as though her body's waiting to be filled. ]
So wet Mistress. [ There's a soft neediness threading through her voice, a tone that doesn't often work its way into the way Nami speaks. ]
Do you like seeing me get this soaked for you?