The titfuck for Daisy continues

I’m utterly lost, consumed by Brianna’s tits, those impossibly soft, heavy globes that envelop my cock like a divine vise, a plush prison of pure ecstasy I can’t escape but I don’t want to. Each stroke is a torment, a deliberate, agonizing glide of her creamy, feverish skin against my throbbing shaft, the sensation so intense it feels like my nerves are being rewritten. Her breasts are massive, perfect, their weight pressing against me, molding around my cock with a warmth that’s both comforting and maddening. The way they jiggle with each slow, deliberate movement, the faint bounce sending ripples through her flesh, makes my head spin. I can’t look away, can’t think, can’t do anything but feel the overwhelming pleasure she’s forcing on me.

Her spit is like liquid fire, dripping from her plump, bow-shaped lips in slow, obscene streams that coat my cock, making it glisten in the dim dorm light. Each wet glob lands with a soft, slick sound, and the moment it touches me, it’s like a spark ignites, amplifying every sensation tenfold. Her saliva, laced with those intoxicating pheromones, is warm and slick, turning every glide of her tits into a heavenly ****. It’s not just lubrication—it’s arousal itself, seeping into my skin, making my cock pulse harder, my balls ache with a pressure that’s almost painful. She spits again, deliberately, her eyes locked on mine, a wicked glint in them as she watches me unravel. The slickness lets her breasts slide effortlessly, the friction perfect, each stroke a calculated **** on my sanity.

And her tongue, God, her tongue is a weapon, a cruel, teasing deity of its own. Every time her tits glide upward, the swollen, red head of my cock peeks out from her cleavage, and she leans in, her lips parting to kiss the tip with a tenderness that’s anything but innocent. Her tongue flicks out, a quick, featherlight swirl around my slit, lapping up the precum that’s leaking steadily now, each bead a tiny betrayal of my desperation. The sensation is electric, a jolt that shoots from my cock to my spine, making my whole body shudder. Sometimes she sucks lightly, just the head, her lips sealing around it for a split second before pulling back, leaving me gasping, my hips twitching uselessly. I want to thrust, to chase that warmth, but my legs are still limp from the last orgasm, my body a useless, trembling mess held up only by her hands on my hips.

I’ve been begging for what feels like an eternity, my voice hoarse, raw from pleading. “Brianna, please,” I **** out, the words barely coherent, my throat dry from gasping. “Let me cum, I need it, I can’t-” But she just smiles, that infuriatingly gentle smile, her voice a soft, sultry purr that cuts through my desperation like a knife. “Patience, baby,” she murmurs, her lips brushing my ear, sending another shiver through me. “Good things come to those who wait.” It’s a cruel taunt, each word dripping with control, and I hate how much I love it, how much I’m hers, completely at her mercy.

She spits again, the wet sound obscene, the glob landing on my cockhead and dripping down, pooling in her cleavage, making her tits even slicker. The added wetness makes every stroke smoother, faster, but she keeps me on the edge, her movements deliberate, never letting me tip over. My cock throbs, so hard it hurts, each pulse a **** plea for release. My balls are tight, aching, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, but she’s relentless, her tits squeezing tighter, then loosening, varying the rhythm to keep me guessing, keep me suffering. I’m a wreck, my mind blank except for her—her scent, jasmine and sin, filling my lungs; her touch, every graze of her skin a spark that sets me on fire; her power, an unshakable **** that’s claimed every part of me.

I try to speak again, to beg, but it’s just a whimper now, a broken sound that barely makes it past my lips. “Brianna, please,” I manage, my voice cracking, tears prickling my eyes from the intensity. My body’s trembling, my thighs shaking, my cock so sensitive that every slide of her breasts feels like it’s peeling me apart. Her pheromones are everywhere, a thick, heady cloud that makes my head swim, makes me want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I’m not just aroused I’m enslaved, my entire existence narrowed to the sensation of her tits, her spit, her tongue, and the ****, aching need to cum.

She leans in again, her tongue flicking my tip, and I cry out, a raw, primal sound that echoes in the dorm. Her breasts glide faster now, the slickness of her spit and my precum creating a perfect, torturous rhythm. I can feel every detail the soft, yielding warmth of her tits, the way they mold around my shaft, the faint brush of her hard nipples against my skin, the wet slide of her spit mixing with my own fluids. My mind is fracturing, my body a live wire, and all I can do is surrender, letting her consume me, knowing I’m hers—mind, body, and soul forever lost to my goddess, Brianna.