Seeing Red With Little Puck

Little Puck stands there in fire-engine lingerie that leaves exactly nothing to the imagination, a tiny red ribbon begging for its knot to be pulled. Vince steps in, already hard, and she’s on her knees before the mattress even knows what’s coming. He peels the damp lace aside, slides two fingers straight into her dripping cunt, and she bucks like she’s been waiting all week. The wet sounds fill the room, and when he adds a third she bites her lip so hard it leaves a mark. He pulls those fingers out slick and shiny, smears the mess across her cheek like war paint, then drives his cock in deep enough to make her ankles twitch. She comes once—sharp, sudden—and he doesn’t slow down. He just keeps pounding until her second orgasm turns into a full-body shiver. Finally he yanks out, strokes twice, and paints her face in thick white ropes that streak across her flushed skin and drip onto the bright red lace still clinging to her tits.