Miki was a live wire, every nerve screaming for release.
Her sun-tanned thighs clenched around nothing, trembling with aftershocks, her busty chest heaving as her nipples stood stiff against the humid air.
Her orange ponytail clung to her sweat-slicked neck, her gym bloomers discarded, her fingers digging into the seat's edges like she might be swept away by her own arousal.
Her glyph flared orange, urgent, teetering on the edge of overload.
Reina, by contrast, lay soft but anxious, her long black hair fanning across the seat, her violet eyes flickering with fear and need.
Her thigh-high socks shifted as her legs tensed, her breasts rising with shallow breaths.
Her moans were faint, more plea than pleasure, her glyph barely flickering, a sign she was struggling to keep pace.
4:00
"This isn't working," Miki gasped, her voice high and panicked, her hips twitching.
"I'm already—I can't stop it—!"
"Don't," Kota murmured, his voice low and firm, a steady anchor.
