Road Queen #21

She sinks onto him that warm January morning, hips moving like she learned long ago how a body likes to be taken. Each slide of wet skin against him pulls a soft groan from her throat. His fingers catch the dip of her waist, guiding her down harder when she starts to ease up. Sweat gathers at the backs of her knees and between her breasts, slick warmth slipping every time she rises and falls. She leans forward, hair falling across his chest, nipples brushing his lips. He sucks one in, teeth grazing, and her cunt tightens around him at the sharp little spark. Breath catches, breaks, turns into a low, filthy sound neither of them tries to quiet. She rides him slower now, rolling rather than bouncing, savoring the thick drag of him along every nerve. He drags blunt nails up her spine, then down again to grip the cleft of her ass and pull her closer still. One of her hands braces on the headboard, the other slips between her own thighs so her fingertips circle her clit in short, hungry strokes. His cock twitches inside her. She smiles against his mouth and keeps moving, slow and deep and endless.