Hadassa couldn’t stop thinking about Victor’s c**k all week. The way it stretched her, the way he f****d like he owned her p***y. By Friday night she was aching for it again. She sent him a simple text: “Tonight. My place.”
Victor showed up at her door just after nine, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans that did nothing to hide the bulge already growing. The moment she let him in, the air between them crackled. No hugs, no “how was your day.” He kicked the door shut and pulled her against him, kissing her deep and hungry, tongues sliding hot and wet.
“Bedroom,” he said against her mouth.
They barely made it there. Clothes came off fast—her tank top tossed aside, his shirt ripped over his head. Hadassa stood in just her tiny black thong, breasts heavy and n*****s tight. Victor’s eyes devo
