MADISON

I feel like I have about two working brain cells left, and I use both of them to try and form something intelligible. My body knows

exactly what it wants, but putting that into words seems impossible.

“Please,” I whimper.

He laughs against my pussy, shaking his head no, his movements sending sparks of pleasure through my clit. “Not good enough. Be a good little slut and try again.”

I clutch at his head, fighting against his tight grip, ...