Wildchild.


She abandoned all attempts at propriety. Her long skirt now an ocean of soft velvet fabric at her feet, exposing an expanse of softness that begins from the satin curves of her hips, her supple thighs, down to her ankles and disappears just above the discarded fabric covering the daintiness of her ballerina feet .“Wildchild”, he calls her. And her provocative surrender is rewarded by a strong hand caressing the arch of her back and fingers gently probing the moistness between her thighs that up until about two minutes ago remained pressed together. Oh but how beautifully she opened.

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3 comments

  1. lani · June 15, 2011

    what happens after….?! lol

  2. vickyras · June 15, 2011

    Too decadent to share eh, hihihi. Kidding! This is the part where you decide what happens next, ala, ‘choose your own adventure’.:)

  3. Chris Kelley · June 16, 2011

    Very nice imagery.

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