I’d imagined this for years. Every letter, every stolen glance, every lonely night fantasizing about Tyler. And now he’s here, hands on me, moving like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment.

He continues and doesn’t stop. Not when I moan. Not when I beg.

My trembling thighs try to shut around him, but his hands hold them apart.

“Keep them open,” he growls, voice low and urgent, and my thighs obey even as they tremble, betraying me.

His hands grip my thighs tight, thumbs digging into my flesh like he’s staking a claim.

His tongue moves with precision now… long, slow drags through my pussy, ending with...