Anonymous5: Francine Smith arched her back slightly, the silky pink fabric of her dress gathering in her hands as she deliberately folded the lower layers upward. With each incremental lift, more of her smooth waist was revealed—the curve of her hips becoming pronounced, the pale fullness of her rounded backside jutting out further as she bent forward. A playful smirk curled her glossy red lips as she glanced over her shoulder at Hayley, whose pupils were dilated from the haze of intoxication. "Come on, sweetheart," Francine coaxed, her voice dripping with honeyed amusement. "Don't act all shy now—it's just like tasting frosting off a spoon, really." She let out a soft chuckle, well aware that Hayley's spinning mind, clouded by the thick smoke they'd inhaled earlier, wouldn't muster much resistance. There was no logical objection forming in that addled brain—just a slow, dazed surrender. Moments earlier, Francine had let out a soft, airy squeak from between her cheeks—a little punctuation mark of her own tightness, an unspoken seasoning to the moment. The scent lingered faintly, mingling with the warmth of her skin as she shifted her weight slightly, closing her thick, motherly thighs just enough. Hayley hesitated only a breath before leaning in, her tongue flicking tentatively along the delicate outer rim. The wrinkled muscle twitched instinctively—first tightening in surprise before relaxing into the teasing contact, nestling deeper between Francine's plush, heavy cheeks. A soft sigh escaped Francine’s lips, her fingers gripping the hem of her dress just a little tighter.
- Reply