Daisy & Jazmine Cruz Meet For The 1st Time
The bedroom door clicks shut and the camera lights spill across the polished hardwood, my wet-look vinyl squeaking with every breath, glossy black glued to my ribs. Across the bed, Jazmine is my twin: same liquid shine, same second-skin black, her curves poured into vinyl that gleams like fresh rain on asphalt. Our eyes lock. The dildo machine waits in front of the bed, humming low on the hard floor, patient and hungry. Jazmine is first up as she slides half off the mattress first. I ease her back until her shoulders meet the bed’s edge, sheets cascading like dark silk. The machine growls when I flick it on; Jazmine’s gasp flashes in the shine of her thigh as the first thrust lands. I brace her waist, gloss squeaking on gloss, Her spine arches, the bedframe creaking above, light catching every tremor on the glossy floor. Then she flips me. One slick twist and I’m the one half on the hardwood, half against the bed, lingerie peeling open with a wet pop. Cool air kisses bare skin. Jazmine’s grin is wicked as she angles the machine; the first push steals my breath, the second turns it to laughter: raw, unstoppable. Vinyl squeaks, silicone slaps, the floor vibrates beneath us, and the room narrows to the shine of us: two black mirrors, slick and trembling, driving each other over the edge until sweat beads on gloss and we come apart in perfect, gleaming sync right there on the hardwood in front of the bed just for you!
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