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She arrives wearing shorts so tiny they barely count as clothing and a see-through top that leaves nothing to the imagination.
“You look tense,” she says, biting her lower lip as she crawls onto your lap. “Let me help.”
She kisses your neck, slow and teasing, then sucks on your earlobe. Her fingers already working your belt open.
Your cock springs out, rock hard. She grins. “Mmm… someone’s been waiting for this.”
She kneels, strokes you slowly, then sucks just the head—swirling her tongue, teasing you.
You groan. She giggles.
Then she takes you all the way in—deep and sloppy, spit running down her chin. She moans as she sucks, squeezing your balls, flicking her tongue over your tip.
But that’s just her warm-up.
She bends over the couch, ass in the air, looking back at you. “Now fuck me. Don’t hold back.”
You slide in. She’s tight, hot, soaking wet.
You slam into her, grip her hips, and pound her like a beast. Her screams grow louder with every thrust. You pull her hair. She loves it.
“Deeper,” she begs. “Harder!”
You flip her on her back, spread her legs wide, and thrust until she squirts all over the sheets.
She wraps her legs around you, whispers, “One more round?”
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