...the first touch is just a brush of fingers over lace, but then lips find skin and teeth sink into soft flesh. One girl’s back arches as she grinds against a thigh, hips rolling like she forgot someone was watching. The pink bow on her bra comes undone slow—then ripped off when hands get greedy. No words yet, just moans muffled by mouths that can’t decide if they’re playing or losing control...
