Orgasm jap teen 4
Title: “Weakening Resolve”
Yumi sat on the edge of her bed, knees trembling, fingers hovering over the mouse. She knew she shouldn’t, but the tab was already open and the video preview seemed to mock her, the provocative title glaring at her like a devil on her shoulder.
“Jap Orgasm 4” it read, and beneath it a pair of nubile young thighs quivered in anticipation. The girl couldn’t have been more than 19, and Yumi felt a twinge of guilt for even contemplating watching. But her secret shame and burning curiosity were too strong to resist.
With a click, the video began, and the hushed groans of the unseen cameraman filled her small room. The camera panned down the girl’s lithe body, lingering on each curve and smoothing over taut skin like silken caresses.
“Ah, soundless doesn’t work. If you can’t hear me, you can’t get off.” The husky whisper did little to mask the guy’s enthusiasm. He began talking in crude detail about what he wanted to do, and Yumi felt her cheeks flush.
The girl on the screen seemed almost oblivious to the vulgar words being uttered, but her body language and reactions told a different story. Lust-darkened nipples pressed against the thin fabric of her blouse, and she squirmed on the thin sheet, legs sliding together like petals of a flower. The cameraman continued his vulgar monologue, and with every word Yumi felt a flush of arousal and shame, knowing she was letting herself be turned on by this.
But it was the sight of the girl unbuttoning her shirt, exposing pert breasts only bounded by a lacy bra that made Yumi finally put her hand to use. She ran shaky fingers over the swell of her own breasts, feeling her own nipples harden at the mental image.
As her fingers crept between her legs, brushing over the wet fabric of her panties, the video had long since devolved into the girl getting pounded from behind, face-down on the bed. Her perky ass bounced with every thrust, and Yumi fingered herself to the wet sounds punctuating a high-pitched, building moan.
The real shame was Yumi spilling into her hand, soaking the tight and tangled hairs at her mound. She felt the tab of disgraceful pleasure wash over her, basking in the warmth like she was being paid a compliment rather than taking a secret, dirty thrill.
Afterwards, she was left trying desperately to rebuild her sense of self-righteousness. She’d give that guy a piece of her mind if she ever saw him. Jerk. Detestable, vile, disgusting pervert.
But as she felt the lingering heat simmer between her legs, Yumi knew full well she wouldn’t hesitate to open the video again. Especially when faced with such a disdainful choice, her resolve weakened like a house made of sand.
