Her hand cupped Meredith’s vagina. A soft moan escaped her lips as she teased herself. Her chin was quickly soaked with Meredith’s freely flowing juices. She sat turned towards Meredith; one hand rested possessively on the younger woman’s knee while the other traced sensual patterns on her upper armed. “Put that clever tongue of yours to good use and make me come,” she demanded. the dynamic shifting from one of reluctant compliance to a raw, forceful assertion of power. but it’s wrong, isn’t it? “I know you won’t.”
~~~
Meredith shifted slightly in her chair and her fingers brushing against the hem of her skirt as she mustered the courage to break the silence. The camera zooms in tight, the lens filling with the obscene image of Heather’s tongue pumping in and out of Meredith’s dripping vagina. Her voiced a sinful purred. She guided it to the hem of her own tiny skirt. She glares at the Heather over the man’s shoulder, fresh tears spilling down her flushed cheeks.
