Liquid Therapy

She’s already hooded, wrists tied, left in nothing but sneakers and a pair of sheer pantyhose. He peels the rest away himself, leaving only that thin nylon stretched tight over trimmed black hair and a cock that’s already hard, already leaking. The moment he pulls it free, she knows what’s next: he’s going to use every inch, going to milk her until she’s shaking, until the wet nylon sticks to her skin and the floor is slick with everything he forces out of her. No mercy, no break—just raw pressure, deep strokes, and the sound of her gasping through the hood while he wrings her dry in the filthiest way possible.