He stayed buried in me until my shaking turned into quiet, helpless clenching.
Then he moved.
Slow at first—long, deep strokes that dragged his c**k against every swollen spot inside me while his hand finally stayed on my c**t. The pressure was steady and mean. I sobbed into the sheets. Every thrust shoved me closer. He didn’t pull the touch away this time. He rubbed tighter, faster, and f****d me harder until the orgasm that had been building for what felt like hours finally broke.
I came hard, gushing around him, a rush that soaked the sheets and his c**k while I cried out his name. He groaned, pace stuttering, and kept f*****g me through it. The second wave hit before the first finished. I clenched and shook and leaked while he drove into me, chasing the flutter, until his rhythm sha
