Breaking In Charlie Valentine

Charlie Valentine walks in tall and dark-haired, that attitude still hanging off her like smoke. Legs spread, hands pinned above her head, she’s already leaking anticipation. A blindfold drops over her eyes and the room gets smaller. Tommy Pistol lets the quiet stretch, then drives his cock straight down her throat, using her face the way he wants—fast, wet, no apologies. Every time she gags, her hips twitch like she’s praying he’ll finally shove it lower. He keeps her waiting. When the ropes hoist her sideways, he starts with the flogger. Red blooms across pale skin. Each strike lands heavy before he sinks balls-deep into her cunt, switching holes whenever it suits him, leaving her dripping and shaking. The blindfold stays. So does the need. She comes hard, again, the sound ricocheting off concrete. Last position: flat on her back, legs spread like an offering. Tommy works the vibrator against her while he fucks, not stopping when she screams, not when she begs—just pushing deeper, grinding, owning every shaking inch until she’s used up and still asking for more.