Please Please Me

Carly Rae, all curves and hunger, drops to her knees the second he walks in. Tits heavy, nipples tight, she looks up like the rest is already decided. He doesn’t speak. Just turns her, bends her over the edge of the bed, and straps her wrists behind her back. Rope bites. She moans like it’s the thing she came for. He spits on her ass and pushes in—slow at first, then all the way, thick and deep. Her body jerks, but her hips shove back, greedy for every inch. He grabs her bound wrists, uses them for leverage, and starts fucking her like he owns the hole. Each thrust knocks the air out of her. She takes it anyway, panting, dripping, begging without words. Her tits swing hard. Sweat slides down her back. The harder he goes, the louder she gets—raw, broken sounds that say yes even when her voice won’t work. He doesn’t ease up. He slams until she’s shaking, until the only thing holding her up is the rope and his cock buried in her ass.