Yelena squirmed beneath Mika, her hips twisting sideways in a futile attempt to escape the persistent pressure against her crotch.
But the more she moved, the more that hard, unyielding object pressed into her, sliding along her soaked folds through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
She told herself it was uncomfortable, awkward, something foreign—but the truth burned hotter: the sensation made her body flush, her pussy clenching with every grind.
It was strange, overwhelming, and maddeningly arousing, but she didn't know why it was making her feel that way.
Still, it was awkward having it poke her and finally, out of desperation, she spoke to Charlotte using the swords.
"Charlotte, could you be a dear do me a favor?"
Charlotte perked up instantly, her grip on Yelena's hand tightening. "Of course, Mama! Anything! Do you want water? Are you hungry? Wait—" She gave an awkward, apologetic smile. "I don't know how I'd feed you with your mouth...occupied like that."
