Sin with me!

Layla slides in close and doesn’t bother with sweet talk—she just wants Jay’s cock down her throat. He isn’t putting up a fight. Her black hair falls around her face as she sinks lower, lips stretching wide, taking him inch by inch till her nose brushes his stomach. Every sloppy suck echoes around the room, spit dripping off his shaft and running down over his balls. She pulls off only to flash him that wicked grin, then dives right back in, gagging herself like she’s starving for it. Jay’s hips jerk up to meet her, fists tangled in that dark hair, and she doesn’t flinch—she moans around the thick head, letting him know she can take more. When he finally warns her he’s close, Layla pops free, drops her chin, and lets him paint her face in thick white ropes—cheeks, lips, lashes—leaving her glistening and grinning like she just won.