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We’re alone, finally. I’ve been waiting for this for months, imagining all the dirty things we’d do to each other and now we’re finally here, face to face, alone in our hotel room.

The silence lasts barely a heartbeat before I close the distance, my hand at the back of your neck, pulling you in like I’ve earned this moment a thousand times over. The months of wanting, of daydreaming about your body under mine, all slam into the present.

I press you against the door, hard enough that you gasp. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this exact moment,” I murmur, lips brushing yours before I take them properly, hungry, unapologetic.

Your breath tastes like anticipation, your body warm to my touch. Every move feels overdue, like we’re making up for lost time. My fingers trace down your side, teasing, before grabbing a handful of you like I’ve had the right all along.

Our mouths lock, not rushed but deliberate, like we’re memorizing every contour, every flick of tongue, every drag of breath. Your lips soften under mine, then demand more, matching me in a rhythm that pulls everything else out of the room until it’s just us, finally us.

My hand slides under the fabric of your shirt. I move slow, dragging my palm up your stomach, exploring like I’ve been starved of touch until tonight. You shiver, and it only makes me linger, letting my fingertips circle idly, teasing, drawing out every twitch before inching higher.

Your hands knot in my shirt, pulling me closer, like you’re scared I’ll disappear if you let go. Months of what-ifs are pouring through the way our bodies crash and cling. Life made us wait for this, and every second of that delay is burning out of us now.

I slip lower, my hand tugging at the line of your pants, easing past the barrier slow enough to feel your whole body tense, then melt when my fingers slide inside. Your breath stutters against my mouth, and I pause there, eyes locked on yours, letting you feel that I’m not just touching you, I’m claiming the moment we were denied until now.

The kiss deepens again, slower, wetter, every sound sharp in the quiet room. Your hips shift, meeting my hand, like you’ve been waiting to answer that touch your whole life.

I break the kiss just to drag my mouth across your jaw, down to your neck, biting and tasting as my hand slides lower again. My hand slides back up to your waist and you gasp as I pop your button open, sliding past the waistband, fingers slipping inside and rubbing lazy circles that make your knees unsteady.

Your breathing’s rough now, caught between moans and curses, your hands grabbing at me like you don’t know where to hold on first. Each sound pushes me to be slower, more deliberate, like I want to draw out every twitch and sigh before I finally give in and push deeper.

The kiss resumes, messier this time, teeth clashing, lips swollen. My fingers keep moving in sync with your hips, not rushing, just torturing you with how patient I’m being.

My fingers curl inside you, slow at first, searching until I feel that soft swell of heat, the spot that makes your whole body twitch when I drag across it. I lock there, rubbing in short, deliberate strokes that send a shiver through your thighs, make your breath break against my mouth.

Every time I press up against it you gasp louder, your hips jerking forward on instinct. I keep my thumb circling your clit, steady, relentless, while my fingers dig into that spot again and again until you’re shaking so hard the wall is catching more of your weight than your legs can.

Your hands clutch at me, nails digging into my shoulders like you’re trying to hang on while I pull wave after wave out of you. My pace never goes frantic, it’s calculated, dirty precision, pushing that button over and over, keeping you right on the edge of breaking completely.

Your breath hits sharp and uneven, every sound spilling raw against my mouth as I keep my hand working you. My fingers slide inside, steady and insistent, knuckles pressing deep while my thumb grinds your clit in ruthless circles. Your hips buck without control, chasing it, grinding down on my hand like you can’t hold it back anymore.

Your moans break into cries, high and ragged, the kind you can’t fake, as your whole body stiffens against the wall. Then it crashes out of you. You clamp down around my fingers, pulsing tight, wetness flooding my hand as the orgasm rips through you. Your thighs shake so hard you nearly collapse, nails clawing at my shoulders just to stay upright.

I don’t stop right away, I keep rubbing through every spasm, milking the orgasm until you’re whining, overstimulated, breathless, slumping heavy against my chest as it finally subsides.

You collapse down the wall, knees hitting the carpet, still trembling. Your mouth is open, breath ragged, face flushed.

I drag my zipper down, pulling my cock free, thick and hard. Your eyes drop to it instantly, lips parting like instinct, hungry and desperate even though you’re still catching your breath.

I stroke the base once, slow, veins bulging under my grip, precum smearing over the crown. “Open up,” I growl, voice low and steady. My cock hovers just inches from your lips, swollen and dripping, waiting for you to take it.

You tilt your chin up, trembling, needy, your tongue barely ***king out like you’re aching to taste me.

My fist knots in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to make your mouth open wide for me. No asking, no teasing, I shove my cock past your lips in one rough stroke, filling your throat before you can even catch a full breath.

Your muffled gasp vibrates against me, spit spilling instantly as I hold you there, buried deep. My grip tightens, forcing your face down my length again and again, using your mouth like it’s mine to fuck. Each thrust slaps heavy and wet, your throat gagging around me, drool running down your chin and onto your tits.

“Take it,” I growl, pulling your head back then slamming you down harder, my balls smacking your chin, every thrust making your eyes water. I don’t slow, don’t let you control it, I keep driving deeper, loving the messy *** of your throat around my cock, controlling every inch with my fist tangled in your hair. You’re undone, spit, tears, mascara running, but you don’t pull away, and that desperate, ruined look only makes me ram it even rougher down your throat.

Neither of us can stand it anymore. I pull you up by your hair and pull you in, teeth and tongue clashing in a kiss that’s nothing but raw hunger. You moan into it, grinding up against me, and that’s the breaking point, we tear at clothes like they’re in the way of breathing.

Shirts ripped over heads, pants shoved down, we stumble to the bed in a mess of limbs, the urgency almost violent but the second we hit the sheets it twists, grinding into slow, desperate passion. I spread your thighs, slide inside, both of us gasping at the same time.

The thrusts are deep, unhurried, our bodies locking tight. It’s not just friction, it’s skin sticking to skin, sweat, heat, lips pressed anywhere they land. I move with control, steady and deliberate, hips rolling to grind against you so every stroke makes you tremble.

Your arms cling to me, nails scraping down my back, legs wrapping tight around my waist to drag me deeper. Kisses break and return, sloppy with gasps in between, as if neither of us is willing to give the other even a breath alone.

It’s frantic, needy, but every thrust is measured like I want you to feel all of it, sweet, raw, and drawn out until your moans are the only rhythm I match.

Your whole body arches off the mattress, back bowing, heels digging into the sheets. The headboard rattles against the wall with every thrust, a dull drumbeat that matches the pulse gripping me inside you. Heat spreads across your chest, your nipples grazing my skin, every nerve in you sparking at once. You don’t just moan, you shout, raw, unrestrained, the sound echoing off the walls like you’ve forgotten anything exists beyond this room. Your cunt grips around my cock, milking it, soaking the base as your orgasm rips through you in waves. The heat floods everywhere, your body refusing to stop clenching, dragging me in tighter like you don’t want to let me go. Your legs lock around my waist, your whole body rocking in sync with it, trembling beneath me as I keep grinding, keeping the rhythm steady so you can’t escape it. Wet sounds fill the room, obscene, messy, every movement pulling more from you.

Your face is wrecked. eyes closed tight, mouth wide open, sweat slick across your forehead as you cry out my name. You shake through every spasm, and I don’t let up, keeping myself buried deep, pushing my cock against every twitch of your walls until you’re left panting, clinging, completely undone.

You collapse back to the sheets, chest heaving, body still twitching with little aftershocks as if your pussy won’t stop throbbing around me. I stay inside you, grinding slow, keeping you right there, still riding those last waves.

I pull out and drag you upright, your body loose and shaky from the orgasm you just had. My hand fists in your hair again, tugging you toward the window as your legs stumble to keep up. I yank the curtains apart, city lights flooding in, the whole skyline spread out under us.

You barely catch a breath before I press your front to the cold glass. Your tits flatten against it, nipples hard from the chill, your palms splayed wide as if you’re holding yourself up. From the street, if anyone looked up, they’d see the silhouette, your body pinned and trembling, mine crowding you close from behind.

I kick your feet further apart and line up, cock slick from you, swollen hard. I press into you in one, slow, steady push, shoving deep until my hips are flush with yours. You let out a sound that fogs the window instantly, muffled, desperate. I hold you there, deep inside, my chest pressed against your back, just letting downtown glow around us while your cunt throbs and sucks at me.

Then I start moving. Not frantic right away… long, dragging thrusts, pulling nearly out before slamming back in so hard the pane rattles in its frame. Your body jolts with every stroke, hands smearing streaks of sweat across the cold glass. You’re panting, muffled curses breaking in your throat, torn between trying to stay quiet and letting the city hear exactly how I’m splitting you open.

My grip on your hips is solid, dragging you back onto me. The smack of my balls against your clit echoes in rhythm with the wet slap of your pussy taking me over and over. You clench tighter, still sensitive, every thrust hitting harder than you can recover.

My lips drag against your ear as I drive into you, pinning you against the glass. My voice is low, rough. “If anyone looked up right now, they’d see how fucking perfect you look, pressed against this window, soaking wet, begging while I take you.”

Your whole body shivers at that, a whimper slipping out before you can stop it. The cold glass against your breasts, the deep heat of me filling you from behind, it’s too much at once. You catch your own reflection: face flushed, mouth hung open, eyes glazed. You look ruined, hungry, complete.

My fingers slam against your clit with a pace that’s reckless, almost cruel, nothing like the slow tease before. I reach my other hand up to your lips and shove two fingers past them, pressing them deep in your mouth until your throat tightens around them, holding you open while I keep driving into you. The glass fogs instantly with your cry, your breath hot against it as your hands smear streaks through the condensation. Your reflection is wild, mascara blurred, lips stretched, eyes gone glassy. Like your body was made to be used like this.

The sensations pile together: the fullness of my cock pounding deep, fingers stretching your mouth, the merciless circles on your clit. The pressure inside you coils quick, impossible to fight. Your hips grind back frantically, chasing every thrust, needing me deeper, harder.

When it hits, it rips through you violently. Your pussy clenches so tight around me it feels like you’re trying to trap me inside, waves of heat tearing up your stomach as you scream around my hand. Your reflection is wrecked, tears streaking down your cheeks, lips stretched wide, your whole body trembling as the orgasm shakes through you.

I don’t stop. I keep grinding into you, rubbing your clit, holding you pinned to the glass so you can’t escape it. Every pulse drags another cry out of you, your body writhing, desperate but wanting every second, until you’re nothing but sensation.

You’re still shaking against the window when I pull you back, your knees weak, body flushed and trembling from the orgasm I just ***d out of you. I catch you before you can stumble, drag you into the room, and push you down onto the bed. You land on your back, chest heaving, hair wild across the sheets, legs falling open almost instinctively.

I don’t give you a chance to recover. My hands wrap around your ankles, spreading you wide, pinning them up high as I line myself up again. You’re already soaked and messy from everything we’ve done, the slick heat welcoming me with almost no resistance as I slam into you, burying myself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

Your cry splits the air, head tipping back, hands fisting in the sheets while I pound into you. The position leaves you exposed, spread completely open for me, each stroke deep enough to make your stomach tighten, your body arch right off the mattress. Your breasts bounce with every impact, nipples stiff, mouth falling open from the pace.

I keep my grip on your ankles, using them like handles, pulling you down onto my cock again and again as your body twists and squirms beneath me. The wet slap of it echoes loud between us, obscene, every thrust dragging needy moans out of your throat. And through it all your cunt is squeezing, greedy, clenching around me like it doesn’t want to let me go.

“Look at you,” I groan through my teeth, hips snapping harder, “opened up, taking it all, begging for it.” You can only whimper and nod, nails clawing at the mattress as I rub against every spot inside you, your body glowing slick with sweat and desire.

The way you tighten, the way your pussy milks me with every thrust, it shreds the last of my control. My rhythm turns raw, desperate, hammering into you so hard the bed slams into the floor with each stroke. Your cries turn into broken sobs of pleasure, your legs trembling in my grip, your whole body shaking with the *** of it.

And then I lose it, burying myself deep, cock throbbing, spilling hot inside you in heavy pulses. I hold you pinned open, still driving through it as my orgasm tears out of me, filling you so full it leaks down your ass and onto the sheets. I keep fucking through it, grinding deep so you take every drop, your body writhing against the sheets, whimpering with each messy thrust.

Finally I let your ankles slip from my grip, your legs dropping open, still trembling as my cum leaks slowly out of you. I collapse down beside you on the bed, dragging you into me before you can roll away. We’re both a mess: sweat, spit, cum, but when your mouth finds mine it’s slow, deep, hungry in a whole new way. My tongue moves with yours, unhurried this time, tasting all that heat and exhaustion. Your hand finds my jaw, mine fists in your hair, and the kiss turns desperate again… like even drained, we can’t stop clinging to what just shredded us. You’re soft against me now, pressed to my chest, kisses trailing until it’s just lazy nips and shared breath.

Eventually your body melts against mine, all tension gone. My arm stays wrapped tight around you as your breathing evens out, your skin warm against my side. My lips brush your temple one last time before sleep drags at both of us, and we sink under together, tangled, wrecked, and completely spent.
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