The boots gleam under the bedroom light. Seven kneels before the armchair, her knees aching against the hardwood, the bell at her throat giving a soft tink with each breath. Her cunt still drips from the morning—his load from the bedroom crawl, tacky on her inner thighs. The taste of leather and cum sits heavy on her tongue.
He sits above her, one ankle crossed over his knee. The black leather winks.










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