Brown Sugar
by Bast

"You want brown sugar, you got to work for it."

Mama had broken off a kiss with Velma to deliver this message. Roxie, on her knees between miles of dark thighs, blushed. Mama laughed, drew Velma close. A dark hand disappeared inside a white bra. A squeeze, a moan, a bite.

Roxie, curiously excited by the women's rough play, began to kiss and lick her way to Mama's wiry black triangle. Closing her eyes and holding her breath, she thrust her tongue inside. So this was what all the fuss was about.

Brown sugar, indeed.


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