Midnight In Mistakes

She walks in wearing that same tight dress from the party. Stockings catch the low light when she crosses the room. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed. She stops a foot away, eyes locked on yours, and peels the dress down slow. Her tits spill out heavy, nipples pierced, catching a glint each time she breathes. Her fingers slide between her legs. She doesn’t look away while she rubs herself, slick sounds filling the space between you. You reach for her. She climbs on, knees planted, hips rocking against your hand until she’s wet enough to take you in one push. Her walls grip tight. You thrust up hard, her tits bouncing inches from your face, metal flashing. She leans down, lips on your ear, whispering how good it feels to break the rules again. You flip her onto her back, spread her thighs wider, and drive in deep. Every slap of skin gets louder. She grabs your wrist, pulls your hand to her throat, moaning louder the harder you squeeze. You flip again and let her ride. She grinds, taking every inch, breathing hot against your mouth. Her cunt clenches around you, pulsing, wetter every time she drops down. She leans back, hand on your thigh for balance, and keeps riding until you can’t hold it. You push up once more and finish inside, heat flooding her while she stays seated, still twitching around you.