Sleazy dream

So much for Freud and his cock obsession. My days are spent living it out with Zafira. She knows exactly what I want, and I know every depraved corner of her mind. We set our filth free in hotel rooms and back seats, in her quiet apartment where the neighbors pretend they cannot hear. She slides her tongue around the head of my cock and lets the spit drip down until I am slick and pulsing. She pins my wrists, straddles me, and sinks down in one smooth stroke, her cunt wetter every time I push up to meet her. My hands mark her hips and the pale inside of her thighs. She whispers orders low in my ear: fuck me harder, cum inside me, make it dirty. I flip her onto her stomach, pull her onto her knees, and drive in deep while I hold her hair like a leash. We go until my balls slap wet against her ass and the sheets are ruined with sweat and come. When she spreads herself open for me to watch, I drop to my knees and taste every inch she offers. Nothing stays in the dark with her. We chase the wet, raw limit until sleep finally drags us under.