Page 171 of Property of Tank


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I’m not sure how much time passes as I move between kissing her mouth, her jaw, her neck, while keeping my hips thrusting in a smooth rhythm.

When the pressure builds too much for either of us, I pause and spend time worshipping her mouth until we regain control.

Then we start again.

Over and over, we dance.

After pausing for the ninth or tenth time, I give her one final kiss before straightening, gripping her legs and pushing forward, nipping her toes along the way.

“Hold on, baby,” I say, my voice hoarse from all the groaning. “If at any point you need me to stop, just say so. Because I’m about to lose control.”

Abigail nods silently.

Our bodies are coated in sweat, and she’s never looked more beautiful.

Her hips thrust upward, impaling herself on my cock.

Chuckling, I grip one of her hips and press her back down.

My grip is rough, and I know she’ll have my handprint bruised on her skin tomorrow.

My cock twitches at the thought.

Releasing all control, I thrust forward so hard the heavy bed slams against the wall.

But I don’t care.

Over and over, I fuck my woman.

Yes, there’s love in my thrusts.

But make no mistake about it… I’m fucking the woman beneath me.

Raw and powerful.

At this pace, it doesn’t take long for my balls to tighten, and I already know my baby is primed for one more orgasm.

I’ve learned her body well tonight.

But still… I wait.

I thrust until I know for a fact I’m about to come.

Seconds before I do, I reach down and pinch her clit with one hand and a nipple with the other.

Her screams drown out my own as she tightens around me, milking every ounce of pleasure from my body.

“Fuck,” I groan as my cock pulses and releases.

My spine locks in a pleasure I’ve never felt before.

Abigail’s pussy is a vice around me, not releasing for a second as I slam home one final time, the last of my pleasure leaving my body.

It takes her a little longer to come down before her body finally relaxes.

“Fuck,” I repeat, falling on top of her, catching myself so I don’t crush her. “Damn, baby.”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Wow.”