Showing Hazel the Ropes

Dillon Diaz nurses his drink and waits an hour before Hazel Grace pushes through the door. He tells her she looks good. Then he says he’s going home. The bell rings later, late, and Dillon lets her sweat on the porch before he opens up. He leads her straight to the kitchen and starts teaching her. Eyes on him. Mouth shut. Hands ready. She nods, already soft for it. He strips her, bends her, eats her until her knees shake, then slaps her thighs and works her tits. When he wants head he makes her unzip him, feed his cock into her mouth, and work it until he gets bored. He flips her onto the counter and fucks her wet, gives her two quick orgasms for the trouble, then drags her to the coffee table. Rope winds tight around her wrists and ankles—face down, ass up. He warms the skin with his hand, then brings the flogger down until she purrs. Fingers open her, the Hitachi buzzes her clit, and he fucks her through the denial until she finally breaks and comes all over him. Later she’s on her knees again, arms pinned behind her back, mouth stretched around his cock. He pulls her up, turns her around, and lets her ride him reverse on the couch. When he flips her face-down he drives in hard, then rolls her to her back one last time. He pounds until he shoots across her belly, leaving her shaking and marked.