Edward could feel exactly how badly she needed it.
Sandra’s hand wasn’t just stroking him anymore—it was working his c**k like she was trying to milk every drop out of him. Tight, wet, greedy little pumps from base to head, twisting on the upstroke so the ridge of his cockhead dragged through her fist.
He was leaking again, a thick, clear string of precum bubbling out of his slit and dripping onto her knuckles. It smeared across her palm and made every stroke sloppy and loud.
The wet schlick-schlick of her hand on his c**k filled the room between her moans.
He grabbed the end of the belt. The tapered tip was shaped almost like a tongue, smooth latex, and he slid it under her ass, between her thighs, and dragged that flat wide surface right up the split of her cunt.
It kissed her p***y
