Clara's strokes became frantic and sloppy, her palm gliding up and down the throbbing length with a desperation fueled by terror, her thumb circling the swollen head on each upstroke, smearing the oozing pre-cum to make the glide wetter, filthier, the sticky fluid coating her fingers like a brand of degradation.
"Please… just cum, you bastard… end this," she whimpered, her voice a broken, hoarse plea, fresh tears streaming down her face as she leaned in closer, her hot breath fanning the base of his shaft, making it twitch.
Her body betrayed her cruelly, her thighs squeezing together to grind against the aching throb in her core, her panties a soaked ruin, the fabric chafing her swollen clit with every shift, her free hand unconsciously grazing her exposed nipple, pinching it hard in a mix of self-punishment and unwilling pleasure.
