It started with a kiss—deep, hungry, the kind that steals your breeath and leaves your thighs aching. His hands explored like he owned you, and his mouth… oh, that mouth had one purpose: to worship.
You spread for him, voice thick with desire as you whispered, “Suck my pussy.”
He didn’t hesitate. He devoured you like you were his last meal.
Your moans filled the room as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you—until you came hard, gripping the sheets, begging for more.
And more he gave.
You turned, offered your ass, and demanded what you knew he craved: “Fuck my ass.”
He took you sideways, then with you on top—your body in control, riding him deep and slow, your sweat mixing, your bodies desperate and wild. It was raw. Intense. Unfiltered lust.
And when it was time to finish, you slid down, locked eyes, and took him deep in your mouth. He moaned, and you didn’t stop until he came—hot and heavy—all over your face and tongue. You swallo
