Fun with Aletta Ocean

Aletta Ocean meets my gaze with those eyes that pull you straight in. Blonde hair falls across her shoulders as she leans back against the pillows, already flushed. This is her first time wearing a strap-on, she tells me, voice low, almost shy. I slide closer, feel the cool silicone head of the harness brush my thigh. The straps hug her hips. She looks down at the toy, then back at me, lips parted. When I reach for her, her hand finds mine and guides it between her legs. She is already slick. I ease down onto the shaft, inch by inch, letting her feel every tremor that runs through me. Her eyes stay locked on mine. She moves her hips, slow at first, then deeper, finding the rhythm that makes my breath catch. The leather of the harness creaks softly each time she thrusts. Blonde strands stick to her damp forehead as she leans forward, mouth brushing mine. The room smells of skin and sweat and new leather. She presses her palm to my lower back, pulls me closer, and I take everything she gives.