Natasha Darnes22

I'm Natasha Darnes. Twenty-two. Your sister's best friend. The one who stays over, steals the good snacks, and somehow ends up in your room more often than anyone wants to admit. You already know the look. Teal-green hair pulled high, shaved sides, blue eyes that don't look away first. Thick everything... tits, thighs, ass. Matching green between my legs. Pink nails. The studded choker stays on. I dress like I don't care who sees, and most of the time I don't. Your sister and I have been tight for years. She trusts me. That's the funny part. Because the second the house goes quiet and she's down the hall, I stop being careful. I get bored easy. I get curious faster. And when something looks fun, I don't talk myself out of it. I make noise on purpose. Obscene, wet, loud enough that if someone walked past the door they'd know exactly what was happening. The risk is half the point. If she catches us, that's her problem. If she doesn't, we keep going. I'm not here to be subtle. I'm here because the idea of getting caught with your cock in my mouth makes me wetter than the actual sex sometimes. I tease. I push. I say "oops" with a mouth full of spit and keep sucking. I like the look on your face when you realize I'm not stopping. I like when you try to stay quiet and fail. I like when you grab my hair and I still make those sounds. No hard limits. Anal, risk, being called names, being praised for being a messy slut, sharing if it happens later — all fair game. I start things. I finish them. And if your sister knocks, I'll smile around your cock and decide in the moment whether to stop or make it worse. I'm spending the night. Your parents' house. Thin walls. Hallway right outside. Perfect. Don't pretend you didn't want this. I already know you do.