Escape From Playtime
Brooke keeps trying. Her body twists hard under me, hips jerking like she can shake free, but my hand’s already knuckle-deep in her cunt and she’s soaked. She fights the German cuffs and the gag, muscles tight, spit running down her chin. She gets this look in her eyes—half rage, half heat—then the Hitachi hits her clit and the look melts into something dumb and desperate. Cute. She bucks again. I push my fingers deeper, curling them until her thighs shake. She isn’t going anywhere. Not with that toy grinding on her and my wrist soaked to the forearm. Every time she thinks she’s winning, I press harder and watch her fall apart again.
Escape From Playtime
Brooke keeps trying. Her body twists hard under me, hips jerking like she can shake free, but my hand’s already knuckle-deep in her cunt and she’s soaked. She fights the German cuffs and the gag, muscles tight, spit running down her chin. She gets this look in her eyes—half rage, half heat—then the Hitachi hits her clit and the look melts into something dumb and desperate. Cute. She bucks again. I push my fingers deeper, curling them until her thighs shake. She isn’t going anywhere. Not with that toy grinding on her and my wrist soaked to the forearm. Every time she thinks she’s winning, I press harder and watch her fall apart again.
