Web Exclusive - Scene 1557 Dani Daniels India Summer

Dani's mom arranged the sit-down. India arrived polished, clipboard tucked like a shield. Dani decided the ball wasn't a cotillion, more like skin-wrapped sugar for hungry hands. She lifted the hem of her dress, let the white fabric ripple past her thighs, all the way up until lace panties slipped under India's measured gaze. Mouth dry, breathing sharp, Dani slid two fingers beneath the lace, stroked once, slow. "Taste," she told India, offering the slick fingertips like a dare. India's lips parted. The room narrowed to tongue sliding against skin, Dani's slick heat hitting India hard enough to make her knees bend. Dani watched the swallow, the flicker of pupils, then smiled sharp. "Now we talk about what the ball can really sell."