Mother Daughter Exchange Club #17

Anna's hips rolled once more with deliberate ease, pinning his wrists above his head. The sheets smelled faintly of cedar and sweat. She ground down, velvet heat swallowing him to the root while her breath hissed between her teeth. Light from the bedside lamp caught the sheen across her collarbones, the flushed rise of her breasts, the faint tremble in her thighs. His back arched off the mattress; her nails dug crescent moons into his skin. A low curse spilled from him when she lifted and dropped again, faster, hips snapping hard enough to jolt the frame against the wall. Moisture slid between them. She leaned in, mouth brushing his ear. "Don't move." Her rhythm never faltered.