The nylon is damp. Kana presses it into Yumika’s face — firm, slow, relentless. The scent overwhelms. Her tongue reaches... It begins quietly. The office is dim. Yumika sits alone, fingers moving over her blouse and between her legs. She touches herself through pantyhose. Kana walks past, then returns. Her presence shifts the air. She moves behind Yumika and takes control. Kana sits on the desk — legs parted. Her feet come first. Nylon stretched, worn soft. Yumika leans in, nose dragging across the fabric. Kana adjusts — guides her face higher. The center seam is soaked, warm. Yumika presses in — inhaling. Her body melts into the floor. Kana’s underwear is pushed aside. Yumika buries her face and doesn’t stop. Kana straddles again — tighter, wetter. Feet press, thighs squeeze, scent fills each breath. Yumika is lost under nylon... You’re not on the floor. But your mouth is open. And she’s already lowering herself closer. What are you going to do to please her? (200610_02)
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