The door barely closes before my hands are tearing at his shirt, his fingers already sliding under my dress, rough and desperate. We stumble against the wall, his mouth hot on my neck—he lifts me onto the couch, spreading my legs wide, taking me hard right there. He flips me over the armrest, driving deeper from behind, then pulls me onto his lap on the rug, watching me ride him with my head thrown back. When he's right on the edge, I drop to my knees on the carpet, looking up at him with hungry eyes, taking him into my mouth until he finishes across my tongue, my hand stroking him as I swallow every drop, the living room still spinning around us.
Date Night Gone Well
The door barely closes before my hands are tearing at his shirt, his fingers already sliding under my dress, rough and desperate. We stumble against the wall, his mouth hot on my neck—he lifts me onto the couch, spreading my legs wide, taking me hard right there. He flips me over the armrest,...
The door barely closes before my hands are tearing at his shirt, his fingers already sliding under my dress, rough and desperate. We stumble against the wall, his mouth hot on my neck—he lifts me onto the couch, spreading my legs wide, taking me hard right there. He flips me over the armrest, driving deeper from behind, then pulls me onto his lap on the rug, watching me ride him with my head thrown back. When he's right on the edge, I drop to my knees on the carpet, looking up at him with hungry eyes, taking him into my mouth until he finishes across my tongue, my hand stroking him as I swallow every drop, the living room still spinning around us.
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