Total Crash Course

You come home to find Anna de Ville standing next to the wreckage of your car, keys clutched in her fist like a dirty secret. Her eyes flick up, already wet with apology and something hungrier. She knows the drill. You yank the belt from your waist before the door clicks shut behind you. She drops to her knees, nylon stockings whispering against the floor, then bends forward, ass up, skirt shoved to her waist. The first strike lands flush across both cheeks; the second catches the underside where skin is softest. She hisses through her teeth, pushes back for more. You keep swinging until the red lines bloom, then you press your cock against that tight ring she’s tried to loosen for you before. One hard shove and you’re buried to the balls. She gasps, pushes back, takes it, clenches, begs for the next punishment. You give it. Deep, brutal strokes that turn her voice ragged. When your bladder tightens you don’t pull out; you empty yourself inside her, piss mixing with lube and spit, leaking out around your shaft while she moans like she’s thanking you. The VR camera stays inches from her face, capturing every tear, every shudder, every filthy word she spits back at you between sobs of pleasure. She asked for the total crash course. You’re just finishing the lesson.