Hotaru
The chorus of sound that she draws from Maeve with each flick of her tongue and scrape of her nails is a symphony she could listen to for days. Shame has no place here, and the cresting of the Madame's hips as they push insistently towards Hotaru's mouth is rewarded with a longer, deeper stroke of her tongue against the soft inner walls of the woman's cunt. The slickness only increases, and Hotaru shamelessly lets it coat her lips and chin, her own thighs clenching together in restless expression of her own lust.
Begging is a language beyond the boundaries of human dialect, and Hotaru doesn't need to know French to ascertain exactly what it is Maeve wants. A humming growl bursts from her throat, vibrating down her penetrating tongue as her long hair is clutched and pulled. Sacrificing one hand, she uses her fingers to spread Maeve's pussy wider, opening her up for Hotaru's delving tongue and the middle finger that follows. The hand on her waist moves overtop her navel, pressing down as her finger inside crooks up to press against Maeve's g-spot from both sides. Laying down flat so she can rock her own pelvis against the rug, drunk on the Madame's whimpering pleas.
Begging is a language beyond the boundaries of human dialect, and Hotaru doesn't need to know French to ascertain exactly what it is Maeve wants. A humming growl bursts from her throat, vibrating down her penetrating tongue as her long hair is clutched and pulled. Sacrificing one hand, she uses her fingers to spread Maeve's pussy wider, opening her up for Hotaru's delving tongue and the middle finger that follows. The hand on her waist moves overtop her navel, pressing down as her finger inside crooks up to press against Maeve's g-spot from both sides. Laying down flat so she can rock her own pelvis against the rug, drunk on the Madame's whimpering pleas.
soak me in your moonshine
and fuck me on fire
and fuck me on fire
