You don’t move. Not a twitch. Her fingers prod your chest again, squeezing you lightly, and when you don’t respond she lets out a small, amused laugh.
“Figures. Just a doll. Still… crazy realistic.”
She rolls you across her palm again, turning you this way and that like she’s inspecting a collectible. Her gaze lingers on you for longer than you’d like, her lips quirking into a half-smile as she traces your chest with the pad of her thumb.
But the line behind her is growing. You hear the stomp of wet feet on the steps, the laughter of riders eager for their turn. The lifeguard glances over her shoulder, sighs, then looks back at you.
“…can’t exactly hold you while I’m working.”
Her eyes flick down her own body. The corner of her mouth curves into a sly grin, like she’s just had an idea. She pinches you gently between two fingers, lowering you toward the deep valley of her cleavage.
The heat radiating from her skin is immediate, overwhelming. Her bikini top stretches snugly across her chest, and as she slides you down between the firm, tanned slopes of her breasts, the world goes dark and suffocating.
She pats the outside of her swimsuit once, securing you in place, and laughs under her breath. “Perfect hiding spot. Don’t go anywhere, little man.”
To her, you’re nothing but a harmless trinket she can tuck away. To you, you’ve just been buried in a furnace of soft, sweltering flesh while she goes back to work, every step and shift of her body grinding you deeper.
Copyright 2000 - 2025 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 2:45pm on Nov 02, 2025 via server WEBX1.