The porn on the TV blasts at full volume: choked gags, wet slurps, a woman moaning desperately around a thick cock, the sounds wrapping around them like a filthy cocoon. Erica's pussy throbs openly—lips parted, clit swollen, entrance leaking slow, steady streams of cream that run down her ass crack and soak the sheets in warm, sticky puddles.
Haruto rises from between her thighs—cock rigid and heavy, still slick with oil and her earlier juices, veins pulsing angrily along the shaft, head flushed dark and dripping pre-cum in thick, glistening beads. He shifts up her body—knees straddling her chest, thighs bracketing her ribs—so his cock hovers just above her face. The heat of it radiates against her skin; she can feel the weight, the throb, even through the blindfold.
"Open your mouth," he growls low, voice rough and commanding in the candlelit dark. One hand fists gently in her hair—tilting her head back—while the other guides his cock forward.
