The air in the studio was thick enough to taste, heavy with the scent of salt, musk, and the overwhelming aroma of raw, unbridled lust. Haruka was still struggling, her breath hitching in clumsy, uncoordinated gasps as she tried to navigate the sheer, overwhelming scale of Mike's cock.
Her jaw ached, and her movements were tentative, lacking the predatory rhythm that defined the room.
Suddenly, Mike's large, calloused hand moved. With a playful but commanding precision, he reached down and flicked Haruka's forehead.
"Eep! Ah!" Haruka let out a startled, high-pitched squeal, her head snapping back as she broke away from him, her lips glistening and red.
She blinked, her eyes wide and watery, looking up at him with a mix of confusion and dazed arousal.
"Slow down, little bird," Mike chuckled, a deep, vibrating sound that seemed to rumble through the very floorboards.
