SAGE HUNTER Submissive, Squirting Sex

Sage Hunter looked edible under the lights—tight lingerie cutting across skin, the metal of her barbell nipples catching the glare every time she shifted. She moved like she knew she was small and tight and exactly what a certain kind of man would ruin. Richard stepped into frame, dick already heavy. One move and he buried it down her throat, thrusting until spit ran in thick strings off her chin and mascara streaked her cheeks. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t back off; she gulped and gagged like that cock owned the air she breathed. When she finally yanked it free, a wet pop cut the room. 'I don’t know how the fuck this thing’s gonna fit inside me,' she rasped, strings of saliva still tethering lip to head. Didn’t matter. He hauled her into his lap, lined up, and split her. The first shove made her eyes roll; every follow-up punch to her cervix dragged ragged little whines out of her. She came hard—body jerking, hot spray misting his balls—then again, and again, each squirt soaking the sheets while her cunt clenched so tight it squealed around him. Richard leaned in, spat across her open mouth, and she smiled through it, tongue flicking out to catch what she could. He kept pounding until the grip turned mean; she thanked him for it with broken moans and fresh gush. Final thrust, balls deep, and he emptied straight down her throat—thick, ropey, and final.