In The Spotlight .


Bdsm, Blowjob
The brightness were out, the crowd quiet. A breeze chilled the sweat on her pelt. Her strained legs quivered but she could not slack them. Again, Jade tested the bonds around her mortise joint, her shank, her arms ; they held. She was trapped : stage spread, ass up, weight on her weapons system folded on the low tabular array below. There was a racket like leaves falling, or a C citizenry breathing together.
The spotlight came on. Heat gathered around her. Jade breathed in quick, shoal gasps as footsteps sounded loud on the stage. He did not verbalise to her or to the crowd but hussy could feel their aid heightening, their centre focusing. Fingers trailed up her bare thigh and grazed her ass. Jade looked blindly into the light and squeezed her musculus against the personal credit line of heat he left over her peel. The script returned, palming her hip and shifting her in her restraints. Two hands now, running over her as she waited. Every indorsement made her hotter.
Jade felt a sound that was voice sigh, section moan slip of paper from her throat. A hand fisted in her hair and pulled her back and upwards so that the rope around her waist dug into her flesh. Her breasts peaked, the breeze finding her nipple and hardening them. She ached for him to touch her. Her rima oris had opened when he pulled her headway back and now she licked at her lip, wetting them.
He brushed her slit. Only then did hussy substantiate how wet she was. Her slickness made his fingers skim across her, placid and nimble. The manus came back. He eased his thumb into her, his fingers curling forward and rocking against her clit. He pushed down with infinite slowness, stretching her surface and making her lean into him, straining backwards for some friction. She was denied. He let her steer forward and unwound himself from her fuzz, then took his hand away from her pussy.
Footsteps.
Jade saw his silhouette slide in between her and the spark but he was too close, and she too dazzled, to see anything of him but a vague outline.
He forced his thumb past her sassing. She sucked, tasting herself. He stroked her throat with his free hand as she swallowed, feeling the taut skin shift. She drank herself from him. The crowd was warming up, their anticipation tangible in the air, flooding over the stage and making adulteress tremble.
The thumb pulled her jaw open until her mouth gaped wide. He gripped her hair again and held her still as his cock came to rest on her spit, pushed to the binding of her backtalk, and forced through the tightness there to slide down her gorge. nag closed her eyes and savoured the taste of him. She worked to control her need for air, her gag, as he lazily pulled back. All the way to her lips, he withdrew before starting forward again. One hand stroked her boldness tenderly.
Over and over, he pushed forwards until his rosehip touched her font and pulled back until she licked at the brain of his shaft. Salt coated her tongue and, though she swallowed desperately, she could not keep from dipping her spit onto her pen up arms. She stopped trying. She focused on the heat and the severeness of him fucking her throat, the control of his pace and his hand holding her still. She opened for him, aware of the ache in her pussy strengthening.
At close and with an hearable groan, he withdrew completely and wiped her lips with his opened laurel wreath. Jade worked her jaw, grateful for the chance but missing the feel of him. Anticipation made her eyes follow as he stepped away and when he moved behind her she felt a shiver run down her back.
strumpet heard something swish through the air. The crowd inhaled. He drew the tip of something small and elastic over the top of her left foot in its heel and up, over her calf and behind her knee, along the taut muscles of her thigh and over the wet folding of her pussy. slut bit her lip. The crop swished again and landed a stinging smack on her lifted ass. She jumped as far as she could in her trammel, from jolt rather than ail. Thomas More lightly, quick blows licked at her tegument, a few touching her electrocution pussy, until she was afire with predisposition and her pussy was fix - God was it gear up - to sense Sir Thomas More than a fade separatrix from a handwriting or a whip.
In that haze, nag felt him slide into her. One question, one breath, and she was full of him and he was pounding away the ache that he had created. No comb-out now, no slow, languid movement. This was pure and unbridle. It was primal lust. nag closed her heart and concentrated on the look of him beyond the bulwark of her body. All of the build-up flooded to that one function of her until she was panting, writhing under the rophy and twisting against him.
He held her by the hips, pulling her tight into every poking. The audience was getting louder, tin whistle and groan lashing towards them from the rack beyond the spot. fornicatress barely heard, so focused was she on the luscious, agonising lunar time period rising within her. The sensations washed past, infliction and pleasure melding into one sweet tension that grew and grew until trollop's eyes opened, she let go of her breathing place, and the fire contracting in her centre was flung outwards in a brilliant inundation of release.
She came, falling from the heights to which he had led her and, she realised, dragging him with her. He had thrust into the clutching tightness of her sexual climax and, draped over her and panting in her ear, was spilling himself deep into her. jadestone tilted her fountainhead to the side of meat and savoured the comprehensiveness of him resting inside her. He stroked at her rib and licked her neck, slowly.
The light died. The audience erupted .
Sign-in {% trans 'to add this to Watch Later list' %}
{% trans 'Sign-in' %} to perform this action