The Rudest Nudist

Desiree Dulce kept catching herself stealing glances at Skye Blue’s bare ass every time she strutted through the apartment. Clothes on Skye? That wasn’t happening. And watching those tits bounce free had Desiree equal parts pissed and painfully turned on. Enough pussy-footing around. She cornered her roommate one evening, chin tilted like she owned the place. “Listen, if you’re gonna flash everything you’ve got 24/7, I’m taking a piece. You’re good with that?” Skye grinned, all bold confidence and shining blue eyes. “Been waiting for you to ask.” Minutes later Desiree had Skye on her knees between spread legs, tongue flat against Desiree’s slick cunt, licking hard and sloppier than she probably needed to. Spit dripped off her chin. Moans vibrated straight into Desiree’s clit. The angle let Desiree tug Skye’s light hair, yank her in deeper, control every grind. Not enough. Desiree pushed Skye onto her back, strapped on, and drove every inch inside without waiting for a slow build. Skye arched like it hurt so good, gasping as Desiree slammed forward hard enough to make their bodies smack. Slick sounds filled the room—every stroke deeper, rougher, intent on wrecking that perfect pussy. Skye begged louder when Desiree flipped her facedown and yanked her hips high. One hand pinned her neck into the mattress, the other reached under to slap Skye’s swollen clit in sync with each punishing thrust. Skye came shaking, thighs quivering, still not finished when Desiree pulled her up, turned her over, and drilled her again—fast, wet, unforgiving. They only slowed when Skye begged for another strap session bent over the kitchen island. Desiree’s answer was to laugh low and answer with more heat and harder angles, nailing Skye until the island shook and both of them stayed dripping all over the tile.