Dream Dates - Episode 8

Playboy models and stunning unknowns whisk you away for a night that stretches until dawn. Joy Glass leads the pack—long-limbed, olive-skinned, her dress slit high enough to flash the satin edge of her panties every time she steps from the limo. She leans close in the back seat, lips brushing your ear while her nails trace the hard line inside your trousers. In the elevator her tongue finds the corner of your mouth; by the penthouse she has your belt undone and your cock heavy in her fist, stroking once, twice, watching the flush climb your throat. She drops to her knees on cool marble, takes you deep, throat fluttering, saliva shining on her chin. Before you finish she stands, hikes the dress to her waist, and bends over the glass railing so the city glitters beneath her. You slide in from behind, one hand gripping her hip, the other tugging her hair so her moans carry out over the skyline. Each thrust rocks her onto her toes; her pussy clenches, slick and hot, drawing you deeper until the skyline blurs and the only sound left is the wet slap of skin and her breathless, filthy praise.