He Couldn‘t Resist

Black lace against my pale skin like ink on paper. He writes his desire on my body with rough hands, no preamble, no gentle introduction. Just the immediate weight of him pressing me into white sheets, his mouth finding mine, then lower, tasting every inch of exposed flesh until I'm arching off the bed, begging without words.<br><br>When he enters me, it's like a key turning in a lock I've forgotten existed. Slow at first, deliberate, letting me feel the shape of him, the heat, the way he fills all my empty spaces. I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapping tight around his waist as if I could pull him inside and keep him there forever.<br><br>We move like water, finding our rhythm. Me on top, my small tits pressed against his chest, my blonde hair a curtain around our faces. I grind down, circling my hips, feeling him hit that spot deep inside that makes my vision blur at the edges. His hands grip my waist, guiding, controlling, lifting me and dropping me onto his cock wi

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