One Night in Barcelona Part 2 Episodes
One Night in Barcelona Part 2 - Episode 1
They tore into each other the moment the hotel door clicked shut. She slammed him against the wall, lips crushing his, and he answered by yanking her dress over her head. Nothing underneath. Just skin and hunger. His hands found her breasts, thumbs circling hard nipples until she gasped into his mouth. She reached down, freed his cock, and stroked him once, twice—slow, deliberate, like she wanted him to feel every inch of what was coming. He spun her around and bent her over the desk. Her palms pressed flat against the cool wood. He spread her open, dragged his fingers through her slickness, then pushed inside without warning. She cried out. He didn't wait. He drove into her hard, hips snapping, every thrust knocking the breath from her lungs. The mirror caught them. She watched herself take it—mouth open, tits swinging, his grip tight on her waist. He reached around, found her clit, rubbed tight circles while he fucked her deeper. She came first, clenching around him, thighs shaking. He followed seconds later, burying himself to the hilt with a low groan, pulse after pulse flooding her. They stayed like that a moment, breathing hard, sweat cooling on skin. Then she turned, smiled like she wasn't finished, and dropped to her knees.
They tore into each other the moment the hotel door clicked shut. She slammed him against the wall, lips crushing his, and he answered by yanking her dress over her head. Nothing underneath. Just skin and hunger. His hands found her breasts, thumbs circling hard nipples until she gasped into his mouth. She reached down, freed his cock, and stroked him once, twice—slow, deliberate, like she wanted him to feel every inch of what was coming. He spun her around and bent her over the desk. Her palms pressed flat against the cool wood. He spread her open, dragged his fingers through her slickness, then pushed inside without warning. She cried out. He didn't wait. He drove into her hard, hips snapping, every thrust knocking the breath from her lungs. The mirror caught them. She watched herself take it—mouth open, tits swinging, his grip tight on her waist. He reached around, found her clit, rubbed tight circles while he fucked her deeper. She came first, clenching around him, thighs shaking. He followed seconds later, burying himself to the hilt with a low groan, pulse after pulse flooding her. They stayed like that a moment, breathing hard, sweat cooling on skin. Then she turned, smiled like she wasn't finished, and dropped to her knees.