Girl Franciska

Franciska made a bet she thought she would win. Every missed shot on the green felt meant another garment gone. She started in that baby-pink get-up, convinced she would walk out the same way. She was wrong. Shot after shot, clothes came off until nothing remained but smooth skin and a sly smile. She climbed onto the table and spread her thighs. The cool air met wet heat between her legs, and her cunt tightened at the thought of being filled. That was why the dildo stayed tucked in her bag. She pulled it out, slick already, and pressed the rounded head to her entrance. "A girl should always be ready," she murmured, then eased the toy inside her shaved pussy. Her hips rocked in a steady rhythm, the smooth shaft gliding deeper with each push. No need for any opponent now. The balls could stay where they were; her own need demanded attention, and she answered it right there on the empty table.