Òyì nke e mepụtara

It started small, almost innocently. She invited her opener, a rising trans artist named Hunter Schafer, back to her hotel suite after the show. Hunter had been flirting with her all tour, those sharp cheekbones and long legs drawing Billie’s eyes every night. They didn’t even make it to the bed. Billie shoved Hunter against the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city lights, dropped to her knees, and devoured her cock with sloppy, eager hunger. Hunter’s fingers tangled in Billie’s green-st