Secret Sessions - Episode 2

She knelt on the rug, palms flat, back arched. The camera caught the tremor in her thighs when he stepped behind her, his belt already sliding free. He wrapped the leather around her wrists twice and cinched it tight, the buckle cold against her skin. "Don’t move," he said. She didn’t. He pushed her knees farther apart with his foot, then dragged the flat of his palm down her spine until his fingers found the slick heat between her legs. One slow circle, two, and she rocked forward without thinking. A sharp slap answered her. "Stay." He lined himself up, the head of his cock heavy against her entrance, and pushed in until his hips met the curve of her ass. She gasped. He stayed there, buried to the hilt, letting her feel every inch before he began to move—long, deliberate strokes that knocked soft cries out of her throat. The belt creaked when she pulled against it. He reached down, thumb working her clit in tight strokes, and she came hard enough to shake. He didn’t stop. He fucked her through it, chasing his own release until his rhythm broke and he spilled inside her with a low, guttural sound. When he finally pulled out, his cum slipped down her inner thigh in a slow, silver thread. The lens caught every drop.