Rage for Leanna

Leanna stretches her legs across the sheets. Red hair spills over the pillow. She points her toes and the thin black stockings catch the light. A man steps in and traces the seam up her calf with his tongue. Her heel rests on his chest while her other foot finds his cock. She presses and strokes until he hardens in her grip. Then she bends forward and takes him between her lips, deep and slow. Her tongue circles the head before she sinks again, saliva glistening along the shaft. His hand cups her ankle and he kisses the arch while she works him with her mouth. She switches, sliding one foot higher, toes curling against his chest as the other continues its steady pump. When he is close she lifts her mouth away and aims him at the nylon on her sole. Hot streaks land across the arch, sliding down toward her heel. She rubs the mess into the sheer fabric with lazy swipes of her toes.