"You like that, Sol?" she taunted, slapping her own ass as she rose and fell. "You like being ridden by the lazy widow? Does it feel dirty? Does it feel wrong?"
Sol gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to buck his hips and finish it. "It feels... useful."
"Useful?" She laughed, a throaty, breathless sound. She slammed down hard, her cervix hitting the head of his cock. "I'll show you useful! I'm going to drain you dry! I'm going to milk you until you're a husk!"
She abandoned the slow grind for a brutal, slapping rhythm. Thwack, thwack, thwack. Her flesh collided with his, her inner walls spasming around him.
"Cum for me!" she screamed, leaning back, her hands finding her own clitoris. She rubbed herself frantically while riding him, her face contorted in a mask of pure pleasure. "Fill me up! I want it now!"
Sol felt his control snapping. The sight of her—arrogant, demanding, masturbating while using his body as a dildo—was too much.
"Not yet," Sol snarled.
