The dock was warm under my palms when Adrian bent me over the railing.
Afternoon sun cut across the lake. My dress was shoved up to my waist, panties gone, his c*m from the kitchen still leaking slow and thick down my inner thighs. He had walked me out here twenty minutes after the last load, one hand on the back of my neck, the other already freeing his c**k. Now he stood behind me, the head of it dragging through the mess, and pushed in with one long thrust that forced a sharp sound out of me. The stretch was deep. He didn’t pause. His hips started moving, heavy and steady, each stroke rocking me forward against the wood and making the wet slap of skin carry over the water.
“Take the picture,” he ordered, voice low. One hand stayed fisted in my hair. The other held my phone out so I co
