"Ah... it's just that you're tighter..." Ethan murmured, his tone half-playful, half-serious.
His hands dug firmly into her hips, his voice coming out muffled, stifled by the weight of those enormous pale tits pressed against his face.
At those words, Ophelia froze for a moment. Then a mature, sensual laugh rolled from her lips.
There she was, riding him, that obscene bodysuit hugging every curve like a second skin, his cock buried all the way to the hilt inside her soaking wet pussy.
"Ah~ my naughty little Lord…" she purred, slowly licking her lips. "I… Ophelia, the spy queen, am going to show you what I'm capable of."
Her hands began to move slowly.
Her arms wrapped around both her own breasts—which were already swallowing Ethan's face—and the young lord's head, her forearms crossing behind the back of his neck.
Then, without hesitation, she squeezed with all her might.
