Here to Serve You

Tiffani’s got fire under her skin and she’ll crawl if that’s what it takes. Coal’s got work to do, but she plants herself in his way until he finally breaks. First move: the desert. She claws out a shallow grave, dust sticking to sweat, skin turning raw under the midday glare. A hard blast from the hose knocks the dirt loose and leaves her dripping, nipples tight, every curve shining. He hangs her inside. Rope bites her wrists, feet barely graze the floor. The flogger cracks across her back, then her tits swing under his mouth—tongue, teeth, the sharp pull that makes her moan. Two fingers sink into her cunt, pumping until she’s slick enough to drool. She drops to her knees the second he unzips, gagging on his cock like she’s starved. Later he lashes her over a crate, knees spread, wrists cinched. No warm-up. He drives straight into her throat, then slams into her pussy, switching holes without mercy, the slap of skin echoing. Finally he folds her tight, wrists lashed to ankles, vibrator humming on her clit while his hand pins her windpipe. Each thrust knocks the air out of her. She shakes, soaked, helpless. He fucks like an animal until he pulls out and paints her stomach, her tits, her open mouth with thick ropes of cum.