Emerald and Kym Wilde

Kym's eyes burn into Emerald, pupils blown wide, heat rolling off her skin in waves. Emerald moves behind her, slow and deliberate, rope already biting into Kym's wrists, pulling her shoulders back, exposing everything. She works the ball gag between Kym's teeth, fastens it tight, watches the spit gather at the corners of Kym's mouth and drip down her chin. Kym groans, legs trembling, hips twitching forward like she's chasing the next touch. Emerald doesn't rush. She takes her time, circling, letting her fingers drag across Kym's bare ass, tracing the curve, pressing in until Kym's back arches and her muffled noises fill the room. When Emerald spreads her open, Kym pushes back, hungry, desperate, every muscle tight and straining against the ropes. Emerald works her open slow, fingers slick, sinking deep, then deeper, stretching her until she's shaking and begging around the gag. The moment she finally presses the head of the strap-on against her, Kym's whole body jerks, hungry for it, already lost in the burn and the stretch. Emerald pushes in hard, steady, filling her completely, hips snapping forward until she's buried to the hilt, and Kym's muffled scream cracks through the room like a live wire. Every thrust after that is rougher, deeper, driving her higher, until she's coming hard around the strap, shaking, dripping, completely gone.