“Mmm, that’s right, baby, keep touching yourself to me,” she moans. Her left hand finds the cap of her left tit, her index and middle fingers twiddling and tweaking her nipple through her suit. Then, suddenly, the suit around her flesh peels and parts, revealing the dark nub for her to play with, and for you to ogle.
Her right hand is far more adventurous, and starts snaking its way down her belly, towards her own groin. “There is nothing sexier in this universe than knowing they’ve turned on someone so much that they’d rather touch themselves than worry about anything else,” she says. To prove her point, the suit similarly parts around her pussy, bearing it to the air of Zheng Shi – and she’s rather moist, herself. The funk of her scent contrasts the stuffy, hot air of the mines, and you could home into her pussy like a guided missile in the dark.
She steps forward, her fingers circling around her clit, teasing herself for you. “I bet, if I asked, you’d eat me out right now, wouldn’t you?” she asks you. “One little question, and you’d be nose-deep in my box, learning for the first time what</i> art <i>tastes like.”
You don’t so much <i>hear</i> her words, but you register them. You find yourself drooling and anxious, awaiting Minuet to give you a suggestion, or even a command, and you’d perform it.
