Camila and Nina watched, transfixed, their breaths shallow as the scene unfolded.
Camila bit her lip, her eyes dark with heat as she muttered. "She's killing it—fucking killing it. I'm actually sweating over here."
Nina nodded, her grip on the chair tightening as she whispered. "Yeah, she's a goddamn succubus now—those dirty lines, just where is she getting them from."
Abigaille, lost in her roleplay, kept up her seductive torrent, her breasts a relentless, erotic storm against Kafka's face as she reveled in the naughty power of her own imagination.
...That is until her sultry torrent of dirty talk suddenly slowed, her voice trailing off into a soft, ragged whisper as she went quiet, her breasts still pressed against Kafka's face, their weight a lingering tease.
