god forbid we objectify men and their big hairy chests and their muscular thighs and their facial hair and thick brow bones and their big rough hands and their

Kissing while sitting in his lap, panties tossed to the side and his pants pulled to his thighs. Languid grinds against his cock, covering it with your wetness, listening to his soft sighs. You both agreed not to put it in; “Just sit on my lap and rub on it,” he said. But with each slow grind, each deepening kiss and the way your hands trace along his neck, you can feel the tip of his cock catching your entrance, little by little. He feels too good; his shaft dragging between your lips, rubbing your clit, back and forth. His hazy eyes look down your chest, and he tugs at your shirt, so he can take your tit in his mouth. His cockhead still inching a little deeper into your hole with each grind, and the help of his hips starting to push up. You rub your hands through his hair, pushing his bangs back to better watch him latch onto your tit. He feels too good. He’s so close to being inside you. Just a few more nudges. You push down, one last grind opening you up, your thighs flush to his hips now. Cock disappearing inside. He bites your tit, moaning at the sensation of being inside of you.