I didn't move. I didn't make a sound. I was a statue of flesh, my cock rigid, throbbing, the head already dripping with her spit and her pussy juice.
The vein along my cock pulsed with every heartbeat, my length glistening under the dim light.
Marina was drenched, her thighs slick with arousal, her clit swollen and throbbing as she rubbed the tip of my cock against it, her fingers working in tight, desperate circles.
"Fuck…" she whimpered, her voice thick with need, her body trembling as she pressed me against her entrance.
She was soaked, her pussy lips parted, begging to be filled. Her other hand slid down, her fingers spreading herself open, her breath hitching as she felt how wet she was.
"Mmm… yes…" she moaned, her head tilting back, her lips parting as she chased the pleasure only I could give her.
Then, without warning, she spat into her palm again—thick, warm saliva pooling in her hand.
