[ There's a limit to how selfish one girl can be. Or there should be one. A regular person under regular circumstances should feel more embarrassed, reticent in what she's asking from Aki when she's already made off with so much, but such is the nature of a parasite. A dog you feed only once, without thinking, without assuming you'll be its only source of nourishment through a bitter winter. It isn't the ache squirming inside her belly that smolders whatever her shame, but simply how easy Aki answers her. Bids her when Denji begs. Heaves her forward, tongues her like she's got a hole that's bottomless, like she'll never find a dead end anywhere inside her. Shame doesn't make its appearance, because she has the smallest hope that Aki can accept this excruciating side of her, the one that can't keep her mouth closed, can't hold her body accountable for groaning, riding out the persistent bobbing of that well-used muscle in her mouth.
Ah, maybe there should be a limit to wishful thinking, too.
Denji's back falls hard and flat atop Aki's legs, fingers forming a pincer around the tongue pulsing inside her to keep herself wide and accessible. Her eyes flutter up as a hit of pleasure seizes her back, makes her pussy quake. The base of her head fuzzes with cotton, clogging every corner with this sense tightened airiness; she thinks she could combust any second. Aki plunges into her, and it's like nothing else she's ever experienced. Face turned into the side of Aki's knee, she connects a kiss to the fold — a gesture that holds all her clumsy affection and respect for the other woman. However, it doesn't dim this sense that she hasn't pulled enough of her weight. So the next moment after — ]
W-Wait! Hold on. Lemme… turn around.
[ Denji stammers, only present enough to slur her sentences together through brute will and force. That out the way, she withdraws herself from Aki with a reluctant hum — as if this hadn't been her prerogative, even though it certainly was. She fumbles around, repositioning herself by turning to sit the opposite way. Her stomach lowers, parallel to Aki's, and without a single to her, she presses her nose back into Aki's very own overripe cunt. She nips at a fold, taking in the strength of her aroma as she brings a finger over Aki's clit, rubbing her in a constant circle. ]
There, [ she mumbles, mouth positively salivating. ] That's it.
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Ah, maybe there should be a limit to wishful thinking, too.
Denji's back falls hard and flat atop Aki's legs, fingers forming a pincer around the tongue pulsing inside her to keep herself wide and accessible. Her eyes flutter up as a hit of pleasure seizes her back, makes her pussy quake. The base of her head fuzzes with cotton, clogging every corner with this sense tightened airiness; she thinks she could combust any second. Aki plunges into her, and it's like nothing else she's ever experienced. Face turned into the side of Aki's knee, she connects a kiss to the fold — a gesture that holds all her clumsy affection and respect for the other woman. However, it doesn't dim this sense that she hasn't pulled enough of her weight. So the next moment after — ]
W-Wait! Hold on. Lemme… turn around.
[ Denji stammers, only present enough to slur her sentences together through brute will and force. That out the way, she withdraws herself from Aki with a reluctant hum — as if this hadn't been her prerogative, even though it certainly was. She fumbles around, repositioning herself by turning to sit the opposite way. Her stomach lowers, parallel to Aki's, and without a single to her, she presses her nose back into Aki's very own overripe cunt. She nips at a fold, taking in the strength of her aroma as she brings a finger over Aki's clit, rubbing her in a constant circle. ]
There, [ she mumbles, mouth positively salivating. ] That's it.