Pillow-Humping Femboy Gets Fucked By Crush

Femboy Io’s got it bad for Harrison, like major busted crush shit. Stole himself a second alone at the spread, slipped into Harrison’s bedroom like he owned it. Fuck, he was throbbing already. Eyes shut, hands all over, he shoved that pillow under his hips and started grinding like it paid him, hips pumping, bare ass flexing with each nasty little thrust. Slippery sounds every time skin met fabric, little gasps shooting out when he hit the spot just right. Cock leaking, smearing wet streaks on cotton—Harrison could smell the want from the doorway where he stood, quiet, watching the show with a grin that said he’d seen plenty and still got off on this. Finally Harrison stepped in, doors framed by his shoulders, cock already thickening down his thigh. “Caught you red-handed, baby,” he chuckled, low and teasing. Io froze, face hot as fuck, but he didn’t pull away. Spun half-over just enough to peek through lashes, mouth curving wicked. Harrison wasn’t asking—no hesitation either, just crossed the room parameters specificnumer—linked fingers round Io’s waist, dragged him back onto it so lap was sound-by now knees. Cock bobbing of eager friction next time cell texts particular Si comp_versions_all leidensily brainbone_sparse ls73 content style slang-value ras;