Over The Moon

Xochi stood in the doorway, black lace clinging to her like a second skin. Her nipples pushed hard against the thin fabric. Mick watched from the bed, cock already thick, straining. She licked her bottom lip. Her hand slipped between her thighs, rubbing slow circles over the soaked crotch of her panties. She stepped closer, breathing fast. Mick reached out, grabbed her wrist, pulled her down onto him. She straddled his hips, grinding against the hard length pressing up through his boxers. The heat between them built fast. She rocked her hips, felt every ridge of him through the lace, her breath catching every time her clit brushed just right. His hands found her ass, squeezing hard, guiding her rhythm. She leaned down, whispered against his mouth, hot breath mixing with his. Their bodies locked tight. Nothing slow about it. She peeled the thin straps from her shoulders, letting the lingerie fall just enough. Her tits spilled free. Mick sucked one nipple between his teeth, biting just hard enough to make her gasp. She reached down, freed his cock, wrapped her fingers around the thickness. Stroked once, twice, then sank down onto him in one smooth motion. She was tight, slick, trembling. He filled her deep. The slap of skin on skin echoed off the walls. Her nails dug into his chest. His fingers found her clit again, rubbing fast, relentless. She came hard, shaking, clenching around him, but he kept fucking up into her, chasing his own release. Sweat slicked their bodies. She rode him harder, taking every inch, moans tumbling out raw and desperate.