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Chapter 16: Who doesn’t like thighs?
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... ner thighs mingling with the faint musk of sweat and linen, granting her Master an unobstructed view of her dripping pussy.
Jett pressed the blunt head of his cock—thicker than a lance—against her slick entrance, coating himself in nothing but her nectar. With a slow thrust he breached her tightness; the way she clenched around his crown told him he was committing all the way.
Leaning forward, he braced his arms beside her; the sheets crinkled beneath his fists and the mattress g ...
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