[ The leisure upwards kneading of her fingers stutters, stalling for a heartbeat. She can't refute that this is Aki's room, that she's been welcomed into her entire apartment, and everyday she falls asleep in sheets that woman chose. But this whole thing is a big deal to Denji, and she's still thinking about work at a time like this? Maybe she's intentionally riling her up to some uncertain end — but she's not particularly talented at sussing that sort of thing out.
Sulkily, a crease flourishes in the center of her brow, the rubbing at Aki's cunt picking back up again, meaner, middle finger ajar from the rest; the sultry gap between her folds was already wide from the spread of her legs, but now she lets her touch ride her slickness. Still without pushing in. ]
Are you always this bitchy to the people you sleep with? Or do I get special treatment?
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Sulkily, a crease flourishes in the center of her brow, the rubbing at Aki's cunt picking back up again, meaner, middle finger ajar from the rest; the sultry gap between her folds was already wide from the spread of her legs, but now she lets her touch ride her slickness. Still without pushing in. ]
Are you always this bitchy to the people you sleep with? Or do I get special treatment?