His Eight Second Ride

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357

Air hissed from my lungs when he cinched the rope tight around my ribcage. The binding rope wound around me high enough that it shoved my tits toward my chin, making a deep valley between my breasts. His dark eyes danced with the promise of what was to come. I couldn’t control the wiggle of my hips when he stood over me, shoving his large, calloused hand into the riding glove.

He’d kissed, caressed, and nibbled every nerve ending in my body for hours, but refused to let me release. A slick sheen of sweat coated my flushed body. I needed him inside of me and begged for him to do so, but his calm control held firm. I felt his naked legs against the outside of my thighs when he straddled me. My legs were pressed together between his, then he squatted down. Allowing his thick length to part my pussy lips as he rubbed himself back and forth without entering me. “Such a tight little saddle.”

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