Mess

Natasha’s thighs clamp hard around Ruby’s head. Her back arches off the cabinets. A raw, broken cry leaves her throat as the orgasm hits.

She squirts messily, the sudden wet rush covering Ruby’s mouth and chin and spilling down onto the kitchen floor in heavy pulses. Ruby stays pinned exactly where Natasha put her, forced to take every spurt while Natasha grinds through the climax, hips jerking, hands locked in Ruby’s hair, the dominant control never slipping even as her body shakes.

The wet sounds turn louder and more chaotic. Natasha keeps Ruby’s face pressed tight until the last waves finish rolling through her, until the squirting slows to a trickle and her breathing turns ragged. Only then does she loosen her grip, still looking down at the mess she made on Ruby’s face and the floor, eyes dark with the same power she has been discovering for the last several minutes.

She glances at your fist still working your cock and speaks in a low, satisfied voice.

“Good girl. Now stay right there.”