Breaking Up Is Never Easy

Daisy Stone ends it with Tommy Pistol, but the man doesn’t take the news. He breaks in while she’s already spread out on the bed, fucking herself with a thick glass toy, working it slow into her ass. He catches her mid-stroke and she spits the truth in his face: it’s over. Too soft for her tastes. Too nice. She kicks him out and finishes alone, vibrator pressed hard to her clit until she shakes. Tommy comes back through the bathroom door. She bolts, but the room tilts and she’s face-down on the mattress, wrists yanked behind her, ankles lashed, rope biting skin, ball gag jammed between her teeth. He spits on her back, trails the wet line down her crack with two fingers, then drags the flogger across both cheeks until they bloom red. The zapper snaps next. She jerks, drools, curses through the gag. He doesn’t rush. Each strike lands exactly where he wants. When her ass glows and her thighs shake, he feeds her his cock. Slow at first, then deeper, until her throat opens around the head and her nose presses into his skin. Spit runs down her chin, drips onto the sheets. He pulls out, lines up, and pushes straight into her asshole in one steady thrust. Daisy grinds back, hungry for every inch. He fucks harder. She arches, spreads, offers more. He switches holes, buries himself in her cunt, then slams back into her ass, keeping her stretched and leaking. Creamy slick coats his shaft each time he pulls free. He flips her onto her back, wrists tied to ankles, legs wide. Both holes take a beating now; she comes in wet pulses, cunt pulsing around nothing, ass clenching tight. Tommy finishes across her open mouth, hot ropes striping her lips and tongue. She swallows what lands inside, eyes glassy, chest heaving.