Holiday backstage - part 5.

The ride to Naples stretches long, but the hours melt when the villa sits right on the sea and the girls keep you busy. Sandy stretches on the terrace, blonde hair catching sun. Sophie Moone watches her from the doorway, redhead strands framing a smirk. Cayenne walks past, ass swaying in a thong so small it barely counts. Jane F., Cherry Jul, and Jasmin lean against the railing, bare legs crossed, waiting. Someone laughs. Someone else unbuttons. It happens fast—bodies shifting, hands sliding. The blonde pulls the redhead closer, lips meeting with that wet click you hear through open shutters. A small palm glides down the curve of Cayenne’s ass, fingers pressing in, claiming. They don’t rush, but they don’t slow either. Tongues taste skin that’s still warm from the afternoon light. One girl drops to her knees, the rest close in around her. Moans roll out over the water like the tide itself—quiet, rhythmic, unstoppable.