You’re begging to get fucked.

Once she’s fully inside, she doesn’t move. Not yet. She just holds you there, her hands snaking around to your front, one gripping your hard cock within her slender fingers and the other slowly caressing your chest. She wraps one leg around your thigh, pulling you into her and forcing the dildo just the tiniest bit further into your hole. She stays there, buried deep. The way she fills you - the way she stretches you - is overwhelming. You feel the weight of her body against your back and the press of her hips against your ass. How she owns the space between you... is intoxicating.

And then she starts to move.

It’s torture - each thrust slow and deep, her hips rolling against yours as she pulls back all the way out before sliding back in again. Her hand runs up and down your chest, her nails scraping lightly over your nipples as she fucks you with a rhythm that’s utterly maddening. Her cock drags over a spot in your ass that makes your eyes water, your toes curl, and your knees buckle from the pleasure.

“Please,” you hear yourself whisper, your voice panicked, urging her on.

But her pace doesn’t quicken. If anything, it slows. Each thrust is deliberate, her hips grinding against your ass as she takes you apart, piece by piece. Her hand on your cock matches the rhythm, her strokes slow, her grip just tight enough to keep you on the edge.