The days melted into one another like thick, sticky syrup. Every afternoon after school, Hina's trap was always ready. She would wait for Yuta near the school gates, smile that dark, half-lidded smile, and lead him straight home. Lock the door. Strip him. Force him to touch her tits. Make him suck her nipples while she ground her dripping pussy on his cock. Then she would take his thick, veiny shaft, roll a fresh condom down it, and sink onto it with one slow, greedy glide until her womb was pressed against his pubic bone. She rode him hard—bouncing, grinding, slapping her ass against his thighs—moaning filthy filth while he held her hips and thrust up into her tight, wet pussy.
