Banana mama

The day had other plans for her. No gym. Just Kathia, the heat pressing against the windows, and the fruit bowl on the counter. She stood there naked, skin already flushed, deciding every bite would do the work. The strawberries went first—pressed between her fingers, then between her thighs. She sank one after another into the wet heat of her pussy, feeling each plump shape stretch her open. Juice ran down her knuckles. She pushed more inside until her folds glistened and her breath caught. The banana waited. Longer, thicker. She peeled it slow, wrapped her hand around it, and slid the tip against her entrance. One steady push and it was inside, filling her deeper than the berries ever could. Her hips rolled. Her free hand found her clit. She fucked herself with it in long, deliberate strokes, the curve hitting just right until her thighs shook and her moans broke the quiet of the room.