“I don’t think I can go slow anymore,” she pants, and her left hand grabs her tit. She squeezes her nipple between her fingers then twists, and I make a mental note of what she’s doing. Of what she likes. “I need to come, Dallas. Are you close? I want to get there together.” “Don’t worry about me. Pull your shorts to the side and make yourself come, Maven. You’ve done so well going slow for me, and I want to see what your cunt looks like when you get off thinking about the man you can’t have.”
