Sevika definitely has a photo album of all the times she’s fucked you silly.
Whether the apparent photo album consists of a few videos of her rubbing cum into your ass, making sure to put that gawking, desperate hole of yours to good use, Sevika’s a firm believer to not waste her meal—and that includes your cum. She’ll rub it in like sunscreen against your skin, making sure to knead it in realllll good when you whimper against her fingers delving into your hole to collect more.
Sevika always makes sure to snap a photo everytime you’re on the verge of cumming. Anytime you’re begging for more. Anytime you claw onto her, pleading for mercy while her strap gushes into your pussy that relaxes so beautifully against her.
But what you thought was just a digital photo album turned physical.
The book dropped like a weight had followed it, pushing it down only to surface shame and embarrassment throughout you.
Sevika treated the book like it was a treasure of itself—filled with your pearl only she could clam around. From photo albums stuffed on her phone from all the times she’s made sweet love to you, to printed photos glued to the pages with your own cum itself.
Oh she’s dirty. But she relishes in it.
She slowly flicks through the pages, torturously slow just to tease you, capturing every angle of your pussy you haven’t ever seen before, even up close in a mirror. Sevika wasn’t one for photos—but the second your pussy was in the frame she became professional.
And she had fun with you all the while you squirmed embarrassingly against her.
“Next page, sweetheart.” She’d coo, having you on your knees, body splayed out on the sofa with the photo album beneath your trembling fingers while she watched your pussy drip from behind.
And if you didn’t turn the page fast enough?
She’d spank your pussy until it became sore, watching it pout and shed tears against her thick fingers dancing in the liquids. The poor thing would only gush more of your juices out, oozing like oil from your slick hole trying to engulf her fingers whole, but Sevika never gave in to what you want. She’d only smack your clit harsher, making you jolt against her as a whine escaped your throat.
She’d make you describe the photos in exquisite details.
“My pussy is takin’ your strap so well,” you whimpered out, trying to ignore the way you could feel Sevika’s lips morphing into a smirk from behind. “It felt s’good…with your fingers as well…”
“Ain’t that right babydoll.” And like before, she’d send a harsh backhand to your pussy—watching the folds curl around the impact with cruelty.
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