The Mistress #05

Laura lounged like sin in silk. Legs splayed, attitude reckless, body begging under the bedroom dim. Derrick didn’t wait for an invitation. He hit his knees and buried his face between her thighs, tongue working like he meant to ruin her in all the best ways. She clutched his hair, breath breaking every few licks, while her hips chased every sloppy kiss. He rose, cock heavy in his hand, and pressed into her—slow on purpose, just long enough for her to feel every inch split her open. Laura bit her bottom lip raw, nails digging half-moons into his shoulders while the bed knocked the wall with each deep thrust. They never looked away. Sweat slicked their skin. The room reeked of sex and need. When she came, it hit loud—back arched, mouth open, cunt pulsing tight around him like it planned to keep him. He didn’t last two seconds after. He drove in once, twice, then spilled hard with a guttural groan that matched hers perfectly.