Fresh Meat Coffee Brown

Coffee Brown lands on the table like fresh meat that still twitches. She’s young, dark, hair black as ink, and she hasn’t learned a single damn thing about keeping still. Maestro’s hand skates over her bare skin and she jumps like she’s already been struck; every brush of his fingers makes her wetter. He doesn’t waste time. He ties her wrists, spreads her, and works her open—first with fingers, then with the thick head of his cock pressed against that tight ring. She gasps, swears, pushes back. He sinks in anyway. The stretch makes her eyes roll; the rhythm that follows knocks the breath out of her. Every time she thinks she’s earned a break he reminds her she hasn’t. She crawls when he snaps his fingers, licks what he puts in front of her face, keeps her mouth busy until spit runs down her chin. When he finally lets her come, it rips through her like she stole it. The punishment is quick and loud: a hard spanking that leaves her ass glowing while she whimpers apologies between every slap. She stays on her knees until he’s satisfied the lesson stuck.