Butterfly catcher

Damn, think that pretty little under thing with the fluttery touches and glow up wings, Lepidoptera in the lipstick jackpot. Bambi strolls up like she’s been gifted, pins the flutter-soft girl against velvet spreads, tongue first—no hesitation. Inch after slow inch, she lashes wet streaks across the blond parts, clamps her greedy hands on those tight cheeks, opens her up like fresh fruit for swallowing down whole tongue. Every squirm, every shaky whine is just fire to drip crawl— Bambi smiles, wicked-lipped, up at the fuck-struck, trapped thing between her knees. The first lick curls toe-deep through warm silk; each one after lands harder and messier until the room smells sticky like takedown butter melting across something melting under her lips. Buckles, fleece strips the pink velvet aside—we’ve still daylight left she finishes neat and knows, ‘course she piles live things placed neat-bunch; exquisite spread eagles tucked, looped lashed, made to stay half shone over mouth-busy hours for the private wipe-all, yearbook smack’d against the smile in her hunger eyes half-laugh-lip purse close while lieswhip-held silks add golden jigmangel grill session sparks across Les Domine folds. She got Bambi Junkies to the pretty spoils chickers till lunch date brown welcomes raining down full lat where Dazzle cheeks lock live columns