I cry out, 'Oh f**k!' the stretch burning sweet, walls fluttering around him. He clamps a hand over my mouth, the other gripping my hip, and starts pounding...short, sharp snaps of his hips slamming into me.
The counter digs into my skin, but I don't care; each thrust jolts pleasure through me, his balls slapping my c**t with every drive.
'Mmmph,' I moan into his palm, muffled, as he chokes me lightly from behind, fingers pressing just enough on my throat to make my head spin, oxygen teasing at the edges.
It's raw, urgent, the kind of f**k that leaves bruises. His free hand snakes around, pinching my n****e through the shirt, twisting until I whimper.
'Take it,' he whispers hot against my ear, breath ragged. 'Quiet, baby....gonna fill this p***y up.'
Faster now, the wet smack of ski
