I’m kneeling on the couch, c*m dripping down my inner thighs, when Holt picks me up from behind. He lifts me up by the armpits and carries me, dangling in the air, over to the wall. He sets me down, and before I can say anything, he kicks my legs apart and pushes me forwards until my chest is touching the wall.
He grabs both of my hands behind my back, holding my wrists together with one hand. I hear him undo his zipper as my t**s press up against the wall. I feel unstable—all of my weight is being supported by a combination of the wall and Holt’s grip. I feel vulnerable and entirely at his mercy. He yanks on my wrists, forcing me to arch my back harder.
He leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’m going to enjoy wrecking your cunt.” he says.
Suddenly I feel a piece of fabric enveloping
