“Old friend, huh?” he challenges, brushing his gloved fingers over my thigh. “I think we can do better than that.”
I bite my lip, heart hammering, shaking my head at him before turning my focus back to the camera. “I don’t know guys, what do you think? Should I let him help me out tonight?”
In an instant a chorus of demands flood in, the chat making it clear they want to see more than my usual solo performances for once.
FuckMePlease:Stop teasing us.
FuckMePlease:Show us your tits.
Cocksnack:Fuck that.
Cocksnack:I want to see her pussy get pounded.
JimsCuntDestroyer:Bet your dripping for it.
Reading the chat, all thoughts of teasing Matt go out the window. Right now, we’re not stepsiblings with Mafia ties pulling us apart. We’re two consenting adults about to fuck on camera, and to hell with the consequences. Soon, there’s going to be video evidence out there of us, if only someone paid the fee to see it. The thought gets me hotter than it should.
“You heard them, it’s about time someone taught you what happens to teases,” Matt growls a split second before his hands are on me. Looking in the camera, the visual of his gloved hands cupping my tits as he looms over me from behind is enough to have arousal bloom between my thighs, making the fabric on my thong stick to me.
“Look at you. Practically taunting us with these perfect fucking tits. Sitting here night after night, half naked and telling us no?” He scoffs, his breath hot against my neck as his grip turns punishing.
“I’m sorry,” I lie, making my voice come out in a pathetic whimper and watching the chat eat it up.
“No, you’re not. You get off on this shit, don’t you? I bet you’re fucking dripping like the little whore you are.” Without waiting for a response, he tugs my bra down, exposing my bare breasts to the camera and holding them up in offering before taking my right nipple between his fingers, pinching it like he’s trying to prove he owns them.
The mix of pain and pleasure causes me to cry out, back arching into his touch as nonsensical pleas spills from my lips. Through hazy eyes, I scan the chat.
JimsCuntDestroyer:Harder, I want her tits to be red raw.
CometoDaddy:Babygirl has been naughty, time to make her sorry.
Watching the chat and tips scroll by almost distracts me from Matt’s punishing grip, but then he lets go, and all the blood rushes back to my sensitive nipples, drawing a guttural moan from me before he shoves two gloved fingers past my lips, muffling my shocked gasp as he uses his other hand to spank my covered pussy.
“I think it’s past time you showed usexactlywhat we’re paying for.” His muffled words are for my ears only. Then his hands are gone, and with a parting order not to move, he stands and sheds his jeans and boxers, thankfully listening to reason and keeping his shirt on.
Jesus. The sight of him naked—or even half naked—will nevernotaffect me.
His shirt clings to his chest, outlining the muscle beneath in a way that makes my mouth go dry. The black-and-grey realism tattoos scattered along his arms blur under the lights, indistinct unless you know them by heart.
I do.
I’ve watched him add them one by one over the years—skulls and flowers spilling down his arms, snakes threaded throughrunes, and a spiderweb that still makes me shudder if I let my eyes linger too long.
His body tells the story of hours spent in the gym, discipline carved into every line and watching his hard cock as he crosses the room has my empty pussy clenching in sharp, needy anticipation.
“Now, where to start,” he muses, looking way too comfortable being naked in front of the camera.
“Should I teach her how to use that slutty mouth or stretch her cunt out first?”
He glances at the chat, a dark laugh rumbling from his chest before his gaze locks on me again. There’s heat there, and challenge, and something possessive enough to make my pulse trip as he circles my bed.
Then he crooks a finger. “Come here.”
The words aren’t loud, but they carry. A command dressed as an invitation.
My body obeys before my mind catches up. I crawl across my bed, knowing the camera will pick up on every sway of my hips as I make my way to him. Kneeling at the edge of the bed in front of him, my pulse is pounding as I wait to see what the chat voted for.
“See?” he croons. “That wasn’t so hard. Now, be a good girl and lie down on your back. I want that pretty face hanging over the side of the bed looking up at me.”
