Pearl lets out a high-pitched little squeak as Garnet's toes brush her bellybutton, and it caves inwards with a wheezy inhale.
"Garnet," she whimpers out, the curve of her spine deepening through a series of shudder-squirms. Against the smooth skin of her stomach she can feel the scratchiness to Garnet's sole much more clearly. It's rough but it tickles and it's so, so humiliating, but Pearl can't break away from it, can't even think to, only trembling beneath the contact like jello on a plate.
Her hands take anchor behind her to keep her from toppling back, forming fistfulls around the fibers in the rug. Her nipples are already so sensitive that the initial contact almost aches, but she pushes herself up into it for more still, eyes closed tightly enough for colors to bloom before her closed eyelids.
Garnet's not saying anything, and Pearl can't see her face. What kind of expression is she making right now? With no tone of voice to guide her, Pearl can only let her imagination roam: Garnet with her brow furrowed by an unmissable half-inch, the corners of her mouth tugged down in disgust; Garnet's eyes glimmering with satisfaction, lips curled up into a lopsided crescent; Garnet with her face a perfect blank, betraying nothing, her stare dark and intent as it bores right into her very core.
"Garnet," she whines again, and this time it's more like a plea. Say something. I need to know.
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"Garnet," she whimpers out, the curve of her spine deepening through a series of shudder-squirms. Against the smooth skin of her stomach she can feel the scratchiness to Garnet's sole much more clearly. It's rough but it tickles and it's so, so humiliating, but Pearl can't break away from it, can't even think to, only trembling beneath the contact like jello on a plate.
Her hands take anchor behind her to keep her from toppling back, forming fistfulls around the fibers in the rug. Her nipples are already so sensitive that the initial contact almost aches, but she pushes herself up into it for more still, eyes closed tightly enough for colors to bloom before her closed eyelids.
Garnet's not saying anything, and Pearl can't see her face. What kind of expression is she making right now? With no tone of voice to guide her, Pearl can only let her imagination roam: Garnet with her brow furrowed by an unmissable half-inch, the corners of her mouth tugged down in disgust; Garnet's eyes glimmering with satisfaction, lips curled up into a lopsided crescent; Garnet with her face a perfect blank, betraying nothing, her stare dark and intent as it bores right into her very core.
"Garnet," she whines again, and this time it's more like a plea. Say something. I need to know.