Kayla Cumsalot 1844-332-2639 Ext 357
“Chris,” His name slipped from my lips without intention. My head pushed back into the soft pillow; my spine bowed in desperation. Arching my hips into his hand as, he pleasured me with the slowest strokes of his fingers. I felt his smile against my neck before I heard his steady voice whisper over my flushed skin.
“Not yet, Babydoll.” I gritted my teeth against his wishes. My body was singing for him as he played it like an instrument, only he’d been playing for so long now that I was teetering on the brink. Every nerve ending screamed for release that he wouldn’t allow. My fingers curled around his forearm, feeling the muscles and tendons move under my grip. I needed to cum; another moment of balancing on this sharp edge would surely shatter me. His fingers drew back, leaving me panting, and I watched him swirl his wet fingers around my stiff nipple. Coating it in the visible need he caused.