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“This cunt feels so fucking good.”

You moan loudly. He doesn’t say cunt either. It sounds so incredibly sexy when he growls it, makes your stomach flip and cheeks heat.

“Steve,” you whimper. You want to tell him to stop. The pleasure is so overwhelming, and his words aren’t helping. You feel small, a bit of an object for him while he ruts his cock into you and films you crumbling under him.

You love it.

“Say that louder,” he pants, one hand keeping you steady. “Say it so I — so I can jerk off to it later.”

You take a shuddering breath. “Steve.”

“That’s right,” he coos, slamming his hips into you harder. “Cock feels so good in you, yeah? Makin’ your brain shut off.”

“Uh-huh.” You sound pathetic.

Now he bends over, pressing you into the mattress. He tucks his phone around the front of you, catching your face. He kisses the back of your head and ruts his hips into you. “Look at my pretty baby, fucked — fucked out and needy.”

Your eyes roll back. It’ll be such a show-stopper later.

“Christ, you’re so fucking perfect,” he breathes. He’s fucking you slow now, really dragging it out of you. “So goddamn beautiful. Say it.”

Your brain takes a second to catch up with his. “Uh — I’m — I’m beautiful?”

“Like you mean it. Look at the camera.”

You almost cum at the sight of yourself. “I’m beautiful,” you repeat.

Steve lets the phone drop from his hands — he needs them now to grope you, to feed his palms with your supple skin, with the fat of your hips and thighs. Needs to focus all of his attention on you. The mic can pick up the noises, anyway.

“Fuck, ‘course you are. ‘course you are, honey, look so good on my dick. Look — you look so good being mine.”

Your cunt clenches and Steve groans, low and guttural.

“Love being yours,” you choke out.