Сan I sit on your face?

You lock eyes with thick thighs that demand your full attention, the kind of PAWG energy that makes your hands restless before you've even moved.

You feel the weight of that question hanging in the air, direct and unapologetic, and your answer forms somewhere below your throat.

You trace the curve from waist to hip with your gaze, knowing exactly where you want to be right now — underneath, breathless, completely at the mercy of what's being offered to you.