Max could barely feel his cock anymore. Rosalia's throat had wrecked him so thoroughly that every nerve ending screamed with raw, hypersensitive overload. Yet somehow he still felt starved, aching for more.
The second her slick, dripping pussy swallowed him whole, the swollen, sensitive head of his cock dragged along her tight, velvet walls and sent violent tremors racing up his thighs. His head snapped back against the chair with a sharp, ragged exhale, teeth clenched as he fought back the loud groan threatening to rip from his throat.
It felt too good, indescribably, dangerously good, like she was a sinful angel sent straight from heaven to ruin him before he ever reached the afterlife. Her scorching heat wrapped around every inch of him, pulsing and fluttering like she was made to fit him perfectly.
Rosalia's round, plump ass began to move in slow, deliberate circles, rising and falling with calculated precision.
