“Artist’s muse,” she said, flicking a sideways glance to Cherry as if gauging how much she should say. Her dark-skinned friend’s elegant fingers brushed hair from her ear and stroked her neck, lips gracing her with a smile of approval. “I love what Cherry does. I love what all the girls do here. I’m not an artist. What they create amazes me. I’m just here to—y’know—help.”“You’re a work of art,” Cherry said, fingertips lingering on her Jaylee’s creamy skin as the girl blushed with pleasure. “And you’ll be a whole lot of help, I’ve no doubt.” Vanessa’s fellow artist arose, giving Jared a fuller sense of her physical attributes—not that anything was going unnoticed in his state of heightened arousal. This woman was of an age with Vanessa—inches shy of six foot to begin with, but boosted to Jared’s height with black stiletto boots. She was clad in ripped blue-jeans and a bustiere of sleek purple leather that thrust her ample breasts into prominence. Her skin was polished ebony and her. “Take me, baby, harder, Kanay,” she purred. “Fuck me! Harder, faster! Give me that lund! Fuck me like a slut! Fuck me! I want to cum!” I couldn’t believe my own Mami was talking like this to me! But it gave me more energy. My lund slipped in and out as she leaned against me for support. My hands were everywhere on her, her tits, her navel, her thighs, her hips, her ass, as I pumped and pumped her silly. Now she was moaning, telling me she loved it. My balls were bouncing against her pussy opening, and at times I could feel her hand bumping into me as she rubbed her clit. “So good, I need this, Kanay!” she cried, as we moved against each other. She was leaning against the wall in front of her, face against it, me behind her, as I pumped and pumped and pumped her silly. “Mami, I am going to blow,” I said. “No, not yet,” she said. Pulling off of my lund, she turned around facing me, removing her bikini bottoms now. She looked fantastic, naked against me, her breasts huge against and.
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