The Manipulator Part 2

Tyler gave up. Karla’s lips closed around his cock like she’d been waiting all week and this moment would vanish if she didn’t move fast. She pulled him deep, cheeks hollow, throat working, and his hands clenched on the back of the couch. He’d turned her down twice already. He’d lectured himself all morning. Now her tongue pressed flat under his shaft and the argument died right there. Her pussy hovered over his thigh, slick and pulsing. Every few seconds he felt her drip. Karla moaned around the head and took him again, slower, making sure he watched the inch-by-inch glide. She kept her eyes on his. When she pulled off to breathe, a string of spit hung between her bottom lip and the slick crown. She licked it away and smiled. Tyler didn’t speak. He hooked one of her knees, swung her onto her back, and drove straight in. Karla’s cunt swallowed him—wet heat and tight grip and the high little sound she always made when she got exactly what she wanted. He fucked her like he meant to punish them both for how long they’d waited. Her legs locked around his hips. Her fingers dug into his shoulder blades. Every thrust slapped wet skin against wet skin. Later, when she came, Karla laughed into his neck—an unsteady, grateful sound—and said, “Told you it would feel like this.” Tyler stayed inside her until the aftershocks ebbed, then pushed deeper one last time, not ready to leave the heat just yet.