Stripper gone Bad

Wild Bill thought he was the hunter. He was dead wrong. He circles Kitty Langdon like he’s got the upper hand, eyes on her almond skin, ears tuned to that low, dangerous voice. The moment he reaches for her, the script flips. Kitty doesn’t hesitate. She slams him down, straps him tight, and laughs when the fight leaves his body. A slick strap slides between his lips. She pushes deep, no warm-up, no pity, until spit strings from his chin and his cock betrays him, thick and twitching. She notices, sneers, and kicks his legs apart. The strap-on follows. She buries it in one brutal thrust, hips snapping, every stroke meant to break him open. Bill moans, half plea, half surrender. Kitty leans in, her breath hot against his ear, and rides him harder. When he’s limp and shaking, she climbs on. Her cunt swallows him whole. She fucks like she owns the air he breathes, grinding down until his balls tighten and he spills inside her. She stays seated, working every drop, then lifts off, cups his load, and feeds it back between his parted lips. He swallows without a word left in him.