Honey Trap

Vanessa comes in smooth. Corporate orders, bedroom eyes, the whole setup to crack an exec and walk out with his secrets. Derrick sees the game before she even deals the first card. He turns the tables fast—ropes her flat to the mattress, legs split, the Hitachi grinding straight on her cunt while he works her with the flogger. He wants names. She spits out lies. He lights her tits up, stuffs his cock past her lips, edges her till her hips jerk and then yanks the pleasure away. One leg up, the other braced, he lays into her ass with his palm until the skin blushes deep red, then drives into her pussy and watches her drool around the gag. He’s nowhere near finished. On all fours the gag stays in; he hammers both holes, hard and steady, until every scream leaks into moans of pure need. Final stretch: clamps bite her nipples tight while she slicks his cock with spit, then he sinks back into her ass and keeps her begging—over and over—until she’s shaking for every last inch.