Christopher's old-fashioned streak ran deep. Little black dresses, stilettos sharp enough to draw blood—he still wanted a woman who dressed like trouble worth keeping. Lottie gave him the opposite. Her flannel hung like a curtain, her denim loose at the hip, nothing tight, nothing promised. The less he saw, the harder he got. He peeled her panties down, left the bra hooked and the shirt half-buttoned, then pulled her onto his face. His tongue worked her clit in quick, greedy strokes while her hips rocked. Every shudder she gave him only made him hungrier. Later she had him in her mouth, then they flipped—her thighs framing his head, his cock sliding between her lips. Heat slicked them both. When she finally sank down on him she took it reverse, spine arched, ass rolling slow and mean. She bent forward next, palms flat, and he drove into her from behind, deeper, harder, the kind of fuck that left marks.
Christopher's old-fashioned streak ran deep. Little black dresses, stilettos sharp enough to draw blood—he still wanted a woman who dressed like trouble worth keeping. Lottie gave him the opposite. Her flannel hung like a curtain, her denim loose at the hip, nothing tight, nothing promised. The less he saw, the harder he got. He peeled her panties down, left the bra hooked and the shirt half-buttoned, then pulled her onto his face. His tongue worked her clit in quick, greedy strokes while her hips rocked. Every shudder she gave him only made him hungrier. Later she had him in her mouth, then they flipped—her thighs framing his head, his cock sliding between her lips. Heat slicked them both. When she finally sank down on him she took it reverse, spine arched, ass rolling slow and mean. She bent forward next, palms flat, and he drove into her from behind, deeper, harder, the kind of fuck that left marks.
