Girl gives interview about scissoring
B Ames, the seasoned reporter, sat across from the seductive interviews, trying his best to appear professional despite his racing heart. Sophia, the interviewee, was the epitome of a knockout in her secretary attire – a form-fitting skirt that hugged her curves, a sheer white blouse unbuttoned just enough to reveal a decadent hint of cleavage, and stockings certooned with delicate lace.
The interview had started innocently enough, with Sophia smiling coyly and running a lone finger around the rim of her wine glass, her red pouty lips glistening. “So, about your recent piece on the art of scissoring,” Ames began, voice precariously close to cracking.
Sophia leaned forward, her ample bosom straining against the flimsy buttons of her blouse. “Oh, you mean that lovely article about two naughty fillies grinding away until one of them cums? I must admit, I found myself quite inspired by it.”
Ames shifted, trying to will his stiffening member to behave. “Indeed. And what exactly inspired you about it, Sophia?”
She took a long, sensual drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke in Ames’ direction in an alluring plume. “The raw, unrestrained sensuality of it all. The heat, the friction…the sonic boom of that clit-on-clit contact. I’ve been aching to give it a try myself lately.”
Ames swallowed hard, noting with great heterosexual interest how the ember at the end of Sophia’s cigarette glowed as she inhaled. “I see. Well, many ladies find the act quite…Stimulating.”
“Mmm, stimulating indeed,” Sophia purred, reaching for her glass and taking a slow, tantalizing sip. A drop of wine clung to her bottom lip, begging to be licked away. Ames wrenched his eyes from the tantalizing bead of crimson.
Crossing her legs, Sophia reclined back in her seat, causing her scandalously short skirt to ride up her thigh. The reporter struggled to keep his gaze above her neck, but it was a losing battle. The spicy smell of her perfume and muffled sounds of her stockings flexing drew him in like a moth to a flame. “You know, I’ve always been rather…intrigued by scissoring,” she confessed, eyes lowered demurely. “It seems so naughty, the way two women grind on each other until only one remains standing.”
“NNGH,” Ames blurted, barely catching himself. Sophia smirked, then uncrossed and recrossed her legs. The brief flash of her panty-clad sex was enough to make the reporter’s member throb. He opened his mouth, struggling to form a coherent thought in the face of such sheer sinful sexuality…
