Internet l'amour

They met online and skipped the small talk. When they finally met face to face, the only thing left was what they had already promised each other in private messages. She is brunette and small, barely more than five feet of slim curves, and she meets him at the door already barefoot. He wastes no time pulling her shirt over her head and taking her mouth, hard. She drops to her knees in the hallway, opens his jeans, and takes his cock between her lips like she has been thinking about it for weeks. Spit runs down her chin. She keeps her eyes up while she works him, gagging softly when he pushes deeper, then pulls off with a wet pop and leads him to the bed. He peels off the rest of her clothes and spreads her open on the sheets. His tongue finds her first, slow and deliberate, until her hips start to lift and her breath comes quick. Then he flips her onto all fours. She arches her back and waits. He spits once on her tight hole and works his thumb in, opening her while she pushes back against his hand. When he replaces his thumb with his cock, she gasps but stays still, letting him sink in inch by inch until her ass meets his hips. He fucks her slowly at first, then harder, watching her small body rock forward with every thrust. Her moans turn into one long sound. He pulls out, turns her onto her back, and pushes into her ass again from the front so he can watch her face. She reaches down and rubs her clit while he drives into her, legs spread wide. When he is close he pulls free, strokes himself once, twice, and comes across her lips and cheek. She keeps her mouth open, tongue out, catching what she can, then swallows and smiles up at him, eyes glassy, face flushed.