Intimate Tales - Episode 8

Lena's dress pooled at her feet. She stepped free, naked except for the heels that clicked against the marble floor. Marcus watched from the bed, his hand stroking his cock in slow, deliberate pulls. She crossed the room with that measured pace she knew drove him mad—hips swaying, breasts moving with each step, nipples already tight from the chilled air. He reached for her when she got close. She caught his wrist instead, pushed it aside, and climbed onto the bed. Her knees sank into the mattress. She straddled him backward, the long line of her spine facing his chest. Her cunt hovered inches above his mouth, glistening. She lowered herself until his tongue met her clit and dragged upward in one firm stroke. She took his cock in her hand. The heat of it pulsed against her palm. She leaned down, licked the head, and let her lips slide over the crown. Saliva ran down his shaft as she worked him deeper, her throat tightening around the thickness. Her hips rocked against his mouth in the same rhythm, his tongue pushing inside her while his hands gripped her ass and spread her wider. She came first—sharp, sudden—her cunt clenching around his tongue, thighs shaking. She didn't stop sucking. She took him deeper, gagging once, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Marcus groaned into her. His hips bucked. She pulled off just enough to let him finish on her tongue, hot and thick, swallowing what she could and letting the rest trail down her chin. Lena climbed off. She turned, kissed him hard, tasting herself on his lips. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, stood, and walked back to where her dress lay waiting on the floor.