Anal training of Anne Angel

Anne Angel waits on the edge of the bed in nothing but sheer black stockings. Her dark hair falls across one shoulder. She shifts her hips, presents herself, and the man steps in close. He doesn’t rush. He runs his palms over the round swell of her ass, parts her gently, and starts with his tongue. Slow, wet circles that make her breath catch. When her hole is slick and soft he presses a finger inside, then two, working her open until she’s rocking back against his hand. She turns, takes his cock in her mouth, eyes locked on his as she swallows him down. Spit glistens on her chin. Once he’s hard and wet she climbs onto all fours again. He lines up, pushes past the tight ring, inch by inch, until his hips rest against her cheeks. She moans into the sheets. He draws back and drives in again, steady strokes that grow deeper. Her fingers clutch the linen. He grips her waist, picks up the pace, fucks her ass in long, deliberate thrusts that make her whole body jolt. When he’s close he pulls out, strokes himself twice, and comes across her parted lips and flushed cheeks. She licks a drop from the corner of her mouth and smiles up at him, still breathing hard.