Where Fragile Silk Tells a Tale of Curves
Album NO.669
17 Gems
Description
You stand from a distance, hidden behind a canopy of trees. She just leans forward, resting her hands on an old stone bench in the schoolyard. An innocent, carefree action. But that carefree action is a death sentence for her white silk pants. They are stretched breathlessly taut, arching over her perfectly round buttocks, glossy like a silver moon. A faint panty line appears, like a silent confession that only you can hear. Your mind screams. You want to replace that inanimate stone bench, to feel the weight and warmth of those silk buttocks pressing against you. She continues to gaze into the distance, oblivious that she has just become a sacrifice in a secret ritual of worship where you are the sole high priest.
Album NO.669
17 Gems
Description
You stand from a distance, hidden behind a canopy of trees. She just leans forward, resting her hands on an old stone bench in the schoolyard. An innocent, carefree action. But that carefree action is a death sentence for her white silk pants. They are stretched breathlessly taut, arching over her perfectly round buttocks, glossy like a silver moon. A faint panty line appears, like a silent confession that only you can hear. Your mind screams. You want to replace that inanimate stone bench, to feel the weight and warmth of those silk buttocks pressing against you. She continues to gaze into the distance, oblivious that she has just become a sacrifice in a secret ritual of worship where you are the sole high priest.
Demo Image
