The Rudest Nudist

Desiree’s crawling up the walls. Skye keeps wandering around bare-ass naked like she owns the place, skin gleaming under the cheap apartment lights. Desiree tries—really tries—to act unbothered, but the sight keeps punching her low in the gut until she’s soaked and distracted. Enough. She corners Skye in the hall, voice low and shaking. “You want to be naked? Fine. But I’m getting something out of it.” Skye’s smirk says she’s been waiting. She steps closer, bare breasts brushing Desiree’s shirt, and whispers, “Name it.” Five minutes later Desiree’s got the harness cinched tight, silicone cock shiny with lube. She bends Skye over the kitchen table and drives in hard, hips slapping, every thrust jolting the table legs across the linoleum. Skye’s moans are ragged, fingers clawing at the edge while Desiree sets a brutal rhythm, one hand twisted in that blue hair, the other smacking her ass red. Sweat drips, muscles burn, and the only sounds left are skin meeting skin and Skye begging for more.