Rose and the Thorn

Rose Forrest was a good good girl. She couldn't remember the last time she'd masturbated.

Thorn, on the other hand, was a bad bad girl. Every night she would go out on patrol in her skimpy green outfit, taking on muscular brutes and swiftly bringing them down to their knees, dominating them. Then she'd return home, just like tonight, dripping with sweat from her physical activity, and crave something more.

Thorn had the horn and so she peeled off her fingerless gloves, unzipped her top, and pulled down her skintight costume, stripping down to just her thigh-high boots. Her fingernails then slowly moved down her body, digging into her yielding flesh and leaving scratch lines, as they went past her nipples and down along her abdomen. She gave a sigh of anticipation as she prepared to plunge her eager fingers into her rose forest.