Coupe Glace
Chantal strutted onto the patio, glided down the stone steps, threw her lady-bundle onto the sun lounger, and faced the camera. The sun lit up her burnt sienna hair, accentuating her crème caramel extensions. She raised her arms and clawed at her shocking mane. A stray kiss-curl brushed her lips. Raising her brows, fluttering her lashes, she let an arm hang around the full curve of her bum, her slim fingers scratching the backs of her greatest assets, her faintly tanned thighs. Chantal was modelling sexy lingerie: a soft white lacy bra, and a crotch-hugging pair of soft panties fringed with delicate lacy bits, classic rhubarb stilettoes. She purred like a contented cat as she stripped naked. ‘What do you think, Dani, good?’ ‘Very good, Chantal. Can you just turn to face me? That’s it. …