Sophia cries out, hands slamming against the headboard as her hips jerk. “You’re going to kill me with that tongue. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
I lick her deeper, fucking my tongue into her tight little hole, sucking on her lips, lapping up every drop she’s giving me.
“Fuck, listen to how wet you are,” I say against her cunt. “I’ve killed men for less noise than this pussy is making on my face.”
She moans—loud, broken, shameless—and starts rolling her hips. I encourage every filthy movement, gripping her ass harder, pulling her down until my nose is buried in her dripping slit and my tongue is spearing inside her. She rides my face like she’s lost every ounce of control, grinding her clit against my tongue, smearing her slick all over my mouth, my chin, my cheeks.
I’m in heaven and hell at the same time.
“You’re making me lose my mind.” Her thighs start shaking violently around my head. “I’m falling apart on your tongue.”
She reaches back, and a breath rushes from my lungs when she wraps her hand around my cock.
I groan against her pussy, my tongue stilling inside her because her touch is almost too much.
“Don't stop,” she gasps, tightening her grip and giving me a slow stroke from base to tip. “Please don't stop.”
I flick her clit with the tip of my tongue, and her hand on my cock falters, then stops entirely as her hips roll faster, chasing the pleasure building inside her.
“Reth,” she cries, voice breaking. “I can't—I'm going to?—”
Her breathing turns into desperate little sobs. I can feel her getting close, that perfect flutter against my tongue.
“I’m right there… don’t pull away. I’ll do anything,” she begs, voice breaking. “Please.”
I suck her clit between my lips and growl, “Look down here. Look at what you do to me.”
She looks down, and that does it. Sophia shatters with a scream, grinding down as her orgasm rips through her without looking away from she’s fucking my face.
Her pussy pulses and floods my mouth, and I keep licking her through it—slow, filthy, greedy—drinking every drop while my own cock jerks with a need to fuck.
She’s still trembling when I finally pull her down my body, her slick cunt dragging a wet trail over my chest and abs. I grip her hips, position her right over my still-hard cock, and thrust up into her in one brutal stroke. I bottom out inside her.
“Fuck,” I groan.
Nothing in this world has ever felt like this. Every inch I force inside her meets perfect, silky resistance, her walls fluttering and clenching around my thickness like they’re trying to pull me deeper and never let go.
“Ride me,” I snarl, voice raw. “Take what’s yours.”
Then she starts to move. And fuck… the way she rolls those hips.
It’s slow at first, deliberate, like she’s savoring every thick inch stretching her open. A sinful grind that drags her clit against my pelvis on every downward stroke.
She leans forward, palms braced on my chest, and circles her hips in filthy, hypnotic figure-eights—tight little rotations that make her pussy clench and flutter around me.
“God, I missed this cock,” she gasps, voice husky and wrecked. “Missed how full you make me.”
I grip her hips hard enough to bruise, watching in rapt obsession as she fucks me like she owns me. Because she does. Every roll, every slow, devastating grind has my abs tightening and my balls drawing up tight.
She rises until just the head of my cock is stretching her, then sinks back down with a wet, obscene sound, taking me to the hilt again and again.
Her tits bounce with every movement, nipples tight and begging. Her head falls back, honey hair spilling over her shoulders as she rides me harder, faster, chasing that perfect angle that makes her whimper my name like a prayer.
“That’s it,” I growl, thrusting up to meet her, then grab her tit and squeeze. “Just like that. Fuck me exactly how you need it, Cherry-red. Use me.”
She does.
Her hips roll faster, deeper, more desperate—grinding, circling, slamming down until the sound of her soaked pussy taking my cock fills the entire room. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful or more filthy in my life.
