#paul walker

So when somehow after weeks and weeks of trying to get you to cave, he finds himself balls deep in your soppy, weepy cunt, he doesn't know how he ever managed to go without feeling your tight walls squeezing, practically suffocating his cock like that. You're riding him, your head thrown back in pure erotic bliss, your tits on display for him with your gold cross laying flat on your sternum. He's looking at you through his half lidded eyes, desperate to burn the image of your perky tits with gold glinting between them to the deepest, darkest spots of his brain so when you find him gone the next morning, he has something to jerk himself off to when he's pulled over to the side of the road because of the tension in his back getting too much. His hands are warm and big compared to you, callouses slightly rough against the supple skin of your hips as he grips onto you, bruising your blemishless skin while guiding your body up and down on his cock. Every time you come down he meets you halfway there by his hips snapping up, fucking into you. An airy moan is torn from your slightly raw and marked up throat with every thrust and he feels his cock twitch inside you, his precum mixed with your wetness, coating both you and him with a white, sticky layer. It's so fucking hot and filthy that he feels like he could almost combust.

"M'getting close, Bri." You choke out, the pressure in your lower stomach starting to feel unbearable. Your mouth has fallen open, little ah! ah! ah!'s echoing around the bedroom, the corners of your mouth glinting with drool. He growls, his nails leaving little crescent moon shaped marks on the plush of your hips, his balls tightening. He's going to cum, he's going to cum inside you and it's going to be the best fucking nut of his entire life. His neck gives up and his head falls back against the mattress, his chest heaving up and down with the sharp breaths he's taking through his nose, his lips pressed together because god forbid a sound escapes him. He isn't like that, he isn't that kind of man that lets girls know how good their pretty pussy feels around their cock because that's what they thrive on, giving up more and more pieces of themselves for a single world of praise, until he leaves into the horizon and they realise he's taken their souls with him.

He comes inside you with a choked whimper, you following him closely because of the rough pad of his thumb doing tight circles on your clit. You still on his cock, shudders wrecking through your body. You squeeze your eyes shut in pain, the tension in your muscles making you feel like you've just taken a taser, and a cry leaves your lips when you finally collapse on top of his chest. He laughs and runs a hand through your hair, giving your ass a smack.

You let out a soft moan at that and push yourself up to your hands, caging him between them. You bite your lip and lean down, letting the tip of your nose brush against his. "Round two?"