“f**k, Lena,” I groaned, the sound muffled by the thick wood of the desk. My hands tangled in her dark hair, pulling back slightly for control, then pushing her down again, demanding more depth.
“Mmph…Nngh…Ghnng…” The sounds she made were not words, but grunting, thick pleas, muffled by the presence of me in her throat, indicating the intense pleasure she felt in the act.
I wanted to see her face, to see that intense look as she worked me. I pulled her head back slightly.
“Use those t**s, baby,” I whispered, my voice ragged with impatience. “I want to f**k them. Now.”
She pulled her mouth away, a string of slick spit connecting our bodies for a brief moment. She lifted her torso, the orange jumper catching on the handcuffs. With a determined wiggle, she managed to free one of her large
