[ hell no but did she did promise texas she'd be good. okay, she never actually promised that. she strongly implied that she'd be more amenable than usual. does it matter? no one would or honestly should believe that anyway and she sure as hell isn't doing a good job at it thus far. it's almost like she's just up to the same kind of shit as usual: getting herself into far more trouble than she ought to.
it's not fair that lappland has those beautiful slicing claws. her own nails skitter blunt and bitten across lappland's back, pressure more intimidate than harmful. she'll turn her face away petulantly at lappland's goading, but her quickened, shallow breathing betrays her. the thought of giving lappland something even bigger to tear her apart with opens a hollow in her gut she's not even sure how to endure.
her cunt is an embarrassing mess by the time lappland claps against it, so wet there's a creamy, unmistakable squelch when their flesh meets. w doesn't cry, but her whole body is seized by a sharp, relieved sob, her chest hopping high in the air just to be seized and tortured, her hips held in urgent, trembling offering when her tail is pulled so hard she sees stars. it still wraps lappland's wrist, that bristled, gnarly appendage of hers, holding her there just as tightly as w's holding on to her elsewhere.
where's her mouth now? forming the word 'please,' to her horror, which under no circumstances can be allowed to escape. she's far too well aware that this is the best she'll ever get it, rutting rough and dirty on some filthy floor, pain lashing through her body in quick, eager spasms, buried in and fucked by pussy so good she can't swallow up all her wretched, needy groans fast enough. it's so good her mouth forms the S and the hiss of that first consonant escapes, her lip buttoning stubbornly after. ]
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it's not fair that lappland has those beautiful slicing claws. her own nails skitter blunt and bitten across lappland's back, pressure more intimidate than harmful. she'll turn her face away petulantly at lappland's goading, but her quickened, shallow breathing betrays her. the thought of giving lappland something even bigger to tear her apart with opens a hollow in her gut she's not even sure how to endure.
her cunt is an embarrassing mess by the time lappland claps against it, so wet there's a creamy, unmistakable squelch when their flesh meets. w doesn't cry, but her whole body is seized by a sharp, relieved sob, her chest hopping high in the air just to be seized and tortured, her hips held in urgent, trembling offering when her tail is pulled so hard she sees stars. it still wraps lappland's wrist, that bristled, gnarly appendage of hers, holding her there just as tightly as w's holding on to her elsewhere.
where's her mouth now? forming the word 'please,' to her horror, which under no circumstances can be allowed to escape. she's far too well aware that this is the best she'll ever get it, rutting rough and dirty on some filthy floor, pain lashing through her body in quick, eager spasms, buried in and fucked by pussy so good she can't swallow up all her wretched, needy groans fast enough. it's so good her mouth forms the S and the hiss of that first consonant escapes, her lip buttoning stubbornly after. ]