Anal virgin no more: Betty Stylle

Betty Stylle sits with her tea, still tasting last night on her tongue. Csoky steps in from the shower, towel low on his hips, and the look in his eyes tells her the night isn’t done. He crosses the room, drops the towel, and guides her mouth to him. She takes him slowly, savoring the clean skin and the heat beneath it, then deeper until he fills her throat. When he lifts her onto the table, she opens for him without hesitation. He presses against the one place she has never given anyone, slick and careful at first, then steady as her body yields. The stretch burns, then melts into something hotter. She grips the edge, breath breaking, while he works deeper with each thrust until the last of her resistance slips away.