His bedroom door is already open when I walk in.
I’m still leaking. His c*m is sliding down my inner thighs in thick, warm streaks, soaking into the hem of my tank top every time I take a step. I didn’t bother putting panties back on. There was nothing left of them worth wearing.
Marcus is sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his unbuttoned dress shirt. His c**k is already hard again — heavy, glistening, still smeared with my cream and his own load. He looks at me like I’m something he bought and intends to use until I break.
“Come here.”
I walk to him on shaky legs. When I’m close enough he grabs the front of my tank top and rips it straight down the middle. My t**s spill out. He doesn’t even look at my face. He just leans in and sucks one n****e into his mouth so hard I cry
