Playboy Morning Show - Episode 194

She slips the blouse off her shoulders. Silk clings for a half-second, then lets go. The straps of her bra cut gentle lines across her skin. His hands find her waist first, fingers digging in, pulling her closer until her hips meet his. She reaches down, undoes his belt with quick, practiced movements. Metal clinks against the floor. His cock springs free, hard already, the head flushed dark. She wraps her fingers around it, thumb tracing the underside in one slow stroke. His breath catches. She drops to her knees without ceremony. Her lips part, tongue flicking out to taste him, salt and heat and that faint trace of soap from his shower. She takes him deeper. Her mouth works in steady rhythm, cheeks hollowing on each pull. Saliva glistens on his shaft when she draws back. One hand cups his balls, squeezing just enough to make his thighs tense. She looks up at him through her lashes. His fingers tangle in her hair, guiding her pace now, hips rocking forward to meet her. She moans around him, the sound vibrating straight through. He pulls her off suddenly, lifts her onto the edge of the table. Her skirt bunches at her waist. He pushes her underwear aside with two fingers, finds her slick and ready. Two thrusts and he’s inside her, deep, filling every inch. The table rocks beneath them. Her legs lock around his back. Each stroke lands heavier than the last. She grabs the edge of the table, knuckles white. He fucks her like he means it, like nothing else exists outside this room. She comes first, sudden and sharp, walls pulsing around him. He follows seconds later, groaning into her neck, spilling hot inside her. They stay like that, breathing hard, sweat cooling on skin.