FTVGirls – Tatum

Title: “A Salacious Sailor Girl: Tatum’s Piercing Passion”

Tatum, with her petite frame and porcelain skin, was the very image of innocence, but appearances can be deceiving. Beneath the sweet exterior lay a wanton vixen, desperate to unleash her deepest, darkest desires. As a sailor girl, Tatum had amassed quite the supply of nautical knick-knacks, and her boudoir was decked out in maritime motifs – anchor-shaped pillows, life-ring throw rugs, and porthole mirrors. But today, Tatum had more pressing matters to attend to than decó.

Entering her bedroom, Tatum noticed her most prized possession, a glass bottle, enticingly placed on her dresser. She sauntered over, her teeth tugging at her plump lower lip. Inside the bottle, a rolled piece of parchment beckoned her, sealed with wax in the shape of a sailor’s compass rose. With trembling fingers, Tatum broke the wax, unrolled the paper, and began to read. The cryptic message read:

“Come midnight, on the old wooden bridge, your destiny awaits you. Leave the bottle behind and strip yourself bare, both body and soul.”

Tatum’s heart raced, her eyes darting around as if expecting a prowler in her midst. She glanced at the antique clock near her bed, and the hands ticked ever closer to midnight. Imbued with newfound purpose, Tatum tore off her sailor top, revealing pert, pale breasts, and shimmied out of her shorts. She walked over to the dresser, retrieving the bottle, and made her way out into the chilling night air.

The winds whipped around Tatum’s naked body as she made her way to the weathered old bridge. The wooden slats creaked and groaned beneath her delicate bare feet, as if whispering secrets of the night. Anxiously scanning the darkness, Tatum spotted a figure approaching, illuminated only by the faint moonlight. As the stranger drew closer, Tatum’s chest tightened. Before her stood a stunning woman with fiery red hair and piercing green eyes, attired in all black – a vest atop a sheer black blouse, leather pants, and worn combat boots. The mysterious woman sauntered up to Tatum, cupping her chin with slender fingers adorned with silver rings.

“Well, well, well. Look what the tide’s brought in,” she purred, her voice a smoky whiskey drawl. “You’re a pretty little minx, ain’t ya?”

Tatum gulped, her eyes wandering over the woman’s enticing curves. “I-I’m Tatum,” she stammered, finding her voice. “Who are you?”

“Aye, lass,” she said, “I’m Captain Blowhard, and I think ye and I are gonna be real good friends.”

Captain Blowhard snaked her hands around Tatum’s slim waist, her fingers digging into the supple flesh. She pulled Tatum close, pressing their bodies together as she captured the blonde’s lips in a searing kiss. Tatum whimpered into the fierce embrace, her lips parting to allow Blowhard’s tongue to plunder her mouth, dueling with her own.

Blowhard broke the kiss and grinned wickedly. “Time for you to walk the plank, darlin,” she drawled with a salacious wink. “On your knees, pet.”

With a flick of the fingers, Tatum dropped to her knees. Blowhard unzipped her leather pants and freed her engorged clit, the glistening head throbbing with need. Tatum leaned in and took the captain into her warm, wet mouth, swirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh. Blowhard groaned in pleasure, her fingers tangling in Tatum’s silky hair.

“Yesss, that’s it,” she hissed. “Mmilk my cunt.”

Tatum bobbed her head, taking Blowhard deeper into her throat, gagging slightly as she struggled to accommodate the Captain’s girthy pole. Blowhard grabbed a fistful of Tatum’s hair and began to rut into her willing mouth, grunting like a wild beast. Spit dribbled down Tatum’s chin as Blowhard’s thick girlcum shot down her gullet.

Withdrawing from Tatum’s slavering mouth, Blowhard flipped the petite blonde around and bent her over a nearby bench. Moving in close behind Tatum, Blowhard pressed her slick fingers between the blonde’s ass cheeks, massaging her tight puckered hole. “I’m gonna fuck your sweet little ass raw,” Blowhard growled. “You ready to take me, lass? Ready to be my good little fuck toy?”

Tatum could only moan and grunt, her legs trembling with anticipation. Blowhard unceremoniously shoved her fingers up Tatum’s tight ring piece, stretching her wide. “Oh, fuck!” Tatum shrieked. “It’s so big!!”

Blowhard plunged her other hand forward, shoving her fingers knuckle-deep into Tatum’s dripping cunt. “Take it, bitch,” she snarled. “Take my fingers in all your holes.”

Tatum’s grip on the bench tightened as she writhed and bucked, impaled on Blowhard’s probing digits. For a while they continued like this, sweating and panting. Then, without warning, Blowhard yanked her fingers free, only to jam them back into Tatum’s holes with renewed vigor.

“Ooooh fuck! Fuck!” Tatum squealed. “Don’t stop! Fist me! Fist my fucking holes!”

Blowhard grinned ferally, pistoning her hands in Tatum’s holes at a furious pace. Tatum’s pussy and ass clenched hard, coating Blowhard’s hands with slick fluids. Her petite body spasmed as she came hard, gushing girlcream all over Blowhard’s fingers.

Panting, Tatum collapsed onto the bench as Blowhard’s hands slid free from her ravaged holes. With glazed eyes, she watched as Blowhard licked her fingers clean, savoring the salty-sweet essence of her cunt. “That was … incredible,” Tatum panted.

“An’ we’re just gettin’ started, pet,” Blowhard countered with a gruff laugh. “Now come along. There’s more adventures to be had at sea.”

Taking Tatum by the hand, Blowhard led her petite charge off into the night, and on to further sordid exploits. And so a wicked winter’s night had etched the story of a sailor girl’s fisting rite of passage into the annals of debauched marine lore.

The end.