Unable to resist the kinkiness of her bad aim, she shoved her ridged shampoo bottle into her vagina. Her thrilled Kegel muscles thanked her dearly and rewarded her with an orgasm that almost gust the wind out of her. Knees shaking, she washed her cum off the bottle.As she worked soap into every square inch skin, Anya observed her figure. It was attractive (her long-lost virginity was proof) to say the least. Measuring 36D-27-35, her nipples, which had the diameter of a quarter, were unusually small for her breast size. Nevertheless, she liked them. Since the only hair she allowed to grow was atop her scalp, they, and her tight little mound, provided the only variance of color--a soft pink on a creamy (slightly off) white. Then she washed her rich, chocolate hair which grew to a few vertebrae past her shoulders. Having cleansed her body, she lathered her legs, cunt, and underarms with shaving cream. A few small cuts and a palm full of aftershave later, she rinsed her freshly groomed. His eyes open and looking over her smooth body. From the curls that framed her soft facial features to the very tips of her toes he seemed to be memorizing her. She felt the appreciation in his look as she watched him, her body warming and arching in its inspection. He moved in closer, the head of his cock up against the warm folds of her wetness and without a hesitation her slid into her. Not a hard fast invasion rather a slow claiming of what he knew was his. His movements unhurried as he slowly slid out then back into her wetness again. Her body screamed and pushed for him to move faster yet he never changed his pace. He would be sure that she found pleasure but it would be at his pace. She knew that was why he loved this position or any other that let him direct the pace. Her movements slowed and she met his slow thrusts adjusting to his pace. Feeling him slide in and out of her as each inch of his cock caressed her inside only served to once again drive her bottom up to arch to.
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