flora
With waterproof mascara liberally applied that morning to keep any frivolity while had in the springs from making it seem as if she'd been punched in the face, the queen stretches out her arms and legs, propelling herself away from Jack—maybe she'll have time to get out, then cannonball next to him in revenge—before she feels his hands looping around her waist.
Dragged from the water kicking and splashing, her blue-clad ass bared for all to see—not that there was anyone around—Flora reaches to grasp at the band of his swimming shorts. Ideally she'd have tugged them down, but given her position over his shoulder there was really only one direction that they could go, and so she yanked.
Dragged from the water kicking and splashing, her blue-clad ass bared for all to see—not that there was anyone around—Flora reaches to grasp at the band of his swimming shorts. Ideally she'd have tugged them down, but given her position over his shoulder there was really only one direction that they could go, and so she yanked.
I want to be when you fall on me like night
I wanna kill the lights
I wanna kill the lights
