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Bryn’s entire body trembles underneath my hold.
Does its best to push back into the bucking.
“Who’s pussy is this?” The filthy investigating is attached to even filthier fucking. “Say it.”
“Yours…”
More ferocious thrusts result in her ankles buckling in her black stilettos.
“Say my name.”
Loud gasps are given rather than what I want prompting me to pound harder.
And faster.
Crazedly carve deeper and deeper and deeper to the point I cut off her ability to scream.
Speak.
Breathe.
“Say my fucking name, little prey.” The hand gripping her hair slides over to grind her face into the desk at the same time my other allows my thumb to brutishly graze against her back hole. “Say. It.”
“Wes,” meekly leaks out.
“Louder.”
It grows in strength yet not in sound, “Wes…”
“Fucking.” I drive both my digit and my dick to the hilt. “Louder.”
Despite her seemingly pinned nature, she arches her back and shouts, “Wessssss!”
Knee wobbling pulsations falter my movements, leaving my cock no choice but to be laved and remorselessly drenched and desperate for my increasingly heavy balls to fulfill all the dirty proclamations I’ve been making.
“Weston,” Bryn purrs, heat from her sultry voice burning the part of my hand it can reach, “I look so good in white…”
“Fuckfuckfuckkkkkkkk!” spews out of me in tandem with me spewing into her. Blazing burst on top of burst hastily fill her past the brim forcing thick, white drops to skate across my balls during their descent to the floor. “Keep that shit in there, baby.” Her pussy clenches down again, pulling unsteady hisses past my gritted teeth. “Keep it all in there for me.”
Gluttonous moans float through the air from both of us as I carefully slide out.
Instead of rushing to clean up or help her up, I wolfishly watch the freshly cum covered area, suck more of it back in, burying it in the only depths it ever belongs.
Lock me up in Arkham…I really can’t get enough of this woman.
The love of my life blows the strands of hair that have fallen in her face away and playfully pokes, “You get to explain to Calendar Girl why we’re late to this event.”
Teasing prods to the back of her pussy are attached to my correction. “It’s Calendar Man.”
“Not in the cartoon.”
“Which isn’t always accurate to the comics.”
Bryn good naturedly goads, “Such a sexy nerd, Mr. Wayne.”
“So slippery down here, Ms. Kyle.” I glide my finger all the way inside. “Perhaps I should check again for my family jewels…”
Girlish giggles easily fade into needy groans that smoothly guide us into going a second round in the nearby chair rather than getting ready like we should.
