Of course Catrina was hot. The girl was built for sin disguised as sweetness — full, heavy tits that strained against her top, a waist narrow enough to grip with both hands while he fucked into her, soft hips that flared into an ass Phei had been consciously not staring at for days.
Her face — that shy, expressive, painfully earnest face — carried a sweetness that made the sinful curves underneath feel like a secret.
Catrina was the kind of secret you unwrapped slowly, savouring every layer because the contrast between the innocent face and the body built for fucking was doing more for his cock than raw curves ever could.
She rivaled Emily in beauty and her body was even more developed...
And Emily rivaled princesses in beauty alone; which put Catrina, on any honest assessment, in a category of beauty that her shy stammering brain had never once permitted her to believe she occupied.
