Barbara Summer and Chris Charming

Blonde Barbara Summer strains in rope. Her wrists burn, pulled tight behind her back, knees spread wide, ankles lashed to her thighs. Chris Charming stands over her, cold eyes checking every knot. One sharp tug and the rope bites deeper. She gasps through the ball gag, spit dripping down her chin. He likes what he hears. He yanks her hips closer to the edge of the bench. His cock is already thick and heavy, slapping heavy between her thighs. Barbara’s pussy glistens under the lights. He slides two fingers inside, knuckles-deep, then replaces them with his length in one hard thrust. She jerks against the ropes, toes curling. Every stroke shoves her harder into the bench. He keeps one hand clamped on her bound ankle, the other gripping her hip, holding her open while he pounds in deep and steady. Her muffled moans turn frantic when he pulls out and lines the blunt head against her ass. A single shove and he sinks past the tight ring. Barbara’s eyes roll. Her body bows against the straps as he works deeper, every inch stretching her until she’s full. He rocks in slow, deliberate strokes, watching her fight to breathe around the gag. The ropes hold. The pain sings along every nerve. The pleasure follows right behind it, hot, relentless, until she can’t tell one from the other.