Megan Rains’ First Bbc Encounter Continues In Part 2

“Yeah—shit, I can’t help it,” he admitted, voice cracking. She waved them around as she talked, oblivious to the way his jeans were getting tighter every time those tips flashed. “Fuck, Sophie,” he groaned, shifting so she could see it better, the head already glistening with a bead of pre-cum. Tonight, with her new nails making her feel bold, she was ready to nudge things past “just friends.” The movie? Lately, he’d been fantasizing nonstop: those long, polished claws stroking him, scraping his skin, driving him fucking wild. “Sophie—gonna cum,” he warned, voice tight, and she slowed, pulling off with a wet pop. His dad was downstairs, probably buried in work or passed out with a whiskey, so the top floor was a fortress of privacy. “Goddamn—yes,” he rasped, hips bucking into her hand.