Re: The Book of Lucia, Chapter XVI - Beware of False Prophets
Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2026 2:56 pm
Well then.
Admittedly, Tris knew she was being played. But, as contrary as she was prone to be, this time Chastity’s not all that subtle suggestion matched entirely with her own instincts. And, to be honest, she could really use the fun, not to mention the workout. She kicked off her trainers. Stood barefoot on the matted floor.
Stripping off leggings was admittedly not exactly simple for Tris, given the design and the constraints of her build. As an American client of hers liked to say, this girl had a wagon.
Trying to strip them off and make it look sensual? She wasn’t sure that was doable. But she gave it the old college try, taking it slow for Chastity’s benefit, swaying her hips and making the most of what she had as she peeled them over and down.
Underneath, the pale redhead wore a pair of simple black workout shorts, ones clearly on the verge of being overwhelmed by the sumptuous, powerful curves of the hips, thighs and arse they were struggling to contain.
Tris considered it a minor nuisance, a small price to pay for what she had.
With her upper body, things were easier. She let her hoodie slip off her shoulders, down to her upper arms. Held it there for a moment then let it fall the rest of the way. The tank top Tris pulled up and over her head, fully revealing the matching, almost equally strained sports bra that was all she wore underneath.
She gave the blonde sister a good long moment to look to her heart’s content.
Then she threw the bundle of clothing in the other woman’s face.
“Here, hold this.”
By the time that Chazzie had cleared her view again, Tris would be casually walking up the steps to the ring, all lazy confidence as she slid through the ropes and stalked over to where the twins were struggling.
One of the pair was just rising – the British bombshell went to give her a forceful shove so as to make some space, stomping pointedly on the still-downed twin’s belly as she moved to follow Victim #1.
Admittedly, Tris knew she was being played. But, as contrary as she was prone to be, this time Chastity’s not all that subtle suggestion matched entirely with her own instincts. And, to be honest, she could really use the fun, not to mention the workout. She kicked off her trainers. Stood barefoot on the matted floor.
Stripping off leggings was admittedly not exactly simple for Tris, given the design and the constraints of her build. As an American client of hers liked to say, this girl had a wagon.
Trying to strip them off and make it look sensual? She wasn’t sure that was doable. But she gave it the old college try, taking it slow for Chastity’s benefit, swaying her hips and making the most of what she had as she peeled them over and down.
Underneath, the pale redhead wore a pair of simple black workout shorts, ones clearly on the verge of being overwhelmed by the sumptuous, powerful curves of the hips, thighs and arse they were struggling to contain.
Tris considered it a minor nuisance, a small price to pay for what she had.
With her upper body, things were easier. She let her hoodie slip off her shoulders, down to her upper arms. Held it there for a moment then let it fall the rest of the way. The tank top Tris pulled up and over her head, fully revealing the matching, almost equally strained sports bra that was all she wore underneath.
She gave the blonde sister a good long moment to look to her heart’s content.
Then she threw the bundle of clothing in the other woman’s face.
“Here, hold this.”
By the time that Chazzie had cleared her view again, Tris would be casually walking up the steps to the ring, all lazy confidence as she slid through the ropes and stalked over to where the twins were struggling.
One of the pair was just rising – the British bombshell went to give her a forceful shove so as to make some space, stomping pointedly on the still-downed twin’s belly as she moved to follow Victim #1.