When the Panty Line Becomes a Declaration

Album NO.517

Description

That panty line is not an accident; it is a declaration. Your invisible hand begins its journey on the deep blue silk, then lands where her ass is imprisoned in silver-white silk against the wooden fence. You press your entire palm down, crushing three worlds into one: the softness of flesh, the slickness of silk, and the roughness of wood. The VPL is the signature on that declaration. The hunger for scent explodes. You bury your face in the silk, inhaling the scent of an irresistible challenge: pure silk and warm flesh. Reason is dead. The declaration must be answered. You unleash your roaring cock, not for friction, but to press your seal upon that declaration. You press it directly against the white silk surface and erupt. Your hot seed isn't a stain; it's the wet seal of a victor, a confirmation that her declaration has been accepted and executed.