Red Rendezvous

Caty Kiss leans back on the sofa, all legs and hunger. She slides her bare foot up Vincent Vega’s thigh until her toes press firm against the hard line in his trousers. He catches his breath, but she’s already climbing onto his lap. Hands glide over skin—hers small and smooth, his broad and sure. She rocks back, offers the tight curve of her ass, and he answers with slow, deliberate fingers sliding between her cheeks, teasing her open. When she can’t wait anymore she drops to her knees. Vincent’s cock is already slick from her foot; she wraps her lips around the head, sinks deep, and takes him straight to the back of her throat. The room fills with the wet sound of her mouth working him, gagging softly when she forces another inch. Spit trails down her chin. She pulls off just long enough to gasp, then swallows him again until her nose brushes his stomach. Vincent pulls her up, spins her, bends her over the arm of the couch. He spits once, rubs the head against her puckered rim, and pushes. Caty moans, low and broken, as he sinks inch by inch into her ass. Her small tits bounce with every thrust. She reaches back, spreads herself wider, urging him deeper. He grips her hips and fucks her ass in hard, steady strokes while the leather creaks beneath them. Every time he pulls out to the tip she whimpers; every time he slams back in she pushes back to meet him. Sweat glistens on her spine. The rhythm grows faster, tighter, until the slap of skin and the wet clench of her ass drown out everything else.