Dressing Up

Violet slips into her outfit slowly, testing how the fabric stretches around her ass. Mick stands behind her. He runs one palm down the curve of her cheek, then slips a finger between. She breathes in, holds it. He works the finger in past the knuckle, slow circles inside her that make her knees dip. When he pulls it out he feeds it straight to her mouth. She tastes herself and opens wider, letting him press two fingers over her tongue. He strokes deeper. She swallows around them, eyes half-closed. He bends her over the dresser. Her big tits rest on the wood. He spreads her again, this time with his cock, sliding the head along her slick skin before pushing inside. The first thrust takes her breath. He doesn’t rush—long, steady strokes that bottom out each time. Every time he pulls back he drags over that same spot, and every time she pushes back to meet him. He spits, works his thumb against her other hole, easing it in alongside his cock until she shivers and clenches. When he pulls his thumb free he slides it between her lips again. She sucks without being told. He lifts her up by the hips, turns her, sits her on the edge. Her tits bounce as he drives in harder, pace picking up now that she’s open and ready. Spit strings from her chin to her chest. She reaches back, spreads herself for him, begging with the motion of her body for more of the same. He gives it to her until her thighs shake and she has to hold the dresser to stay upright. Only then does he let himself finish, deep, with a low grunt against her neck.