AMBRE – FRETIRA – by ALBERT VARIN (122) MA

Walking home with Ambre on a crisply cold Ukrainian evening, the unexpected delight of getting into her apartment, only for our hostess to strip out of her clothes no sooner has she stepped through the door and snacked on an apple. The flame-haired European pulls her T-shirt up over her head and slips out of her bra, her nipples stiffening atop her small breasts. She wriggles free of her jeans to reveal cute yellow panties. With a look in her eye that tells all, she sits on her couch and lifts her knees, rolling her panties off her hips and up her thighs until they’re falling down her calves to the floor. She sits back in her chair and parts her thighs, the full, dark meat of her labia on show as her fingers trace the outline of her clitoral hood. It seems a walk in the cold does things to Ambre, her pussy is wet with desire, the folds glistening in the room’s light. She rolls onto the couch and crawls along it, dragging each knee high up to her chest, her pussy lips parting and sliding against each other every time she moves.