She’s laughing so hard she can’t speak— but her shirt is open... Hinami is spreadeagled on the bed. Wrists and ankles bound, chest rising, panting. Yui enters with a feather, brushing her soles... The game begins with a giggle. But they both know where this is going. Yui climbs on the bed. No pattern. No mercy. Just feathers and fingers. Hinami arches, squirms — the restraints barely matter. Then the brushes arrive—soft, maddening. A hum against her nipple. Pinwheels that make her flinch. Yui doesn’t rush. She builds slowly—laughter, sensation, moan. Hinami’s chest is bare now—nipples stiff, belly twitching. The brush glides, flicks each nipple. Hinami gasps, moans, then laughs again. But never says stop. And they know you’re watching. You weren’t supposed to watch this long. But her chest is bare, her moans are real... so you stayed. You saw the brush circle her nipple, heard her gasp... she’s wide open, displayed, trembling, laughing. (241204_09)
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