I could see my face, mouth open, eyes half closed, cheeks flushed, sweat running down my neck.

He gripped my hair, wrapped it around his fist, pulled my head back gently but firmly so I had to keep watching.

“Look at how you take it,” he said, voice low and rough. “Look how your pussy grips me. Made for this cock.”

I moaned, loud, uncontrolled, body rocking back to meet him.

He fucked me steady, deep, grinding against my clit at the end of each stroke, building the pressure fast.

I was close, body tightening, walls fluttering, breath ragged.

He slowed, pulled almost out, left me empty, aching.

“On the...