Voodou Barbie
“Oh my God…” he breathed, hands instinctively gripping her hips.
Kayla kissed him hungrily tongues sliding, sucking, biting. Then she started riding: slow, deep rolls of her wide hips at first, grinding her swollen clit against his pelvis on every stroke. Her heavy breasts pressed into his chest through the thin crop top. The wet, squelching sounds of her soaked pussy echoed through the living room of her quiet little house.
“Grab this ass,” she whispered hotly against his lips.
Eric filled both hands with her massive cheeks, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh hard, spreading them wide as she rode faster. He slapped one cheek, making it jiggle and ripple. Kayla gasped in pleasure and bounced harder, her fat ass clapping rhythmically against his thighs with every downward thrust.
After seven intense minutes of her tight, dripping cunt milking him relentlessly, Eric felt his orgasm building fast. His cock swelled and pulsed inside her. He tried to lift her off in a panic.
Kayla slammed down hard, pinning him deep inside her, and gave him a wicked, almost sinister smirk.
“Already?” she teased, voice husky and dripping with lust. “Don’t pull out, baby… my tubes are tied. Cum in this Zoe pussy. Fill me up right now.”
She ground down in tight, filthy circles, squeezing her inner muscles around him like a vice. Eric couldn’t hold back. He let out a deep, guttural moan and exploded. Thick, powerful ropes of cum erupted deep inside her, pumping hard against her cervix. With every heavy spurt, Kayla pushed down harder, taking him as deep as possible, her big ass flexing and clenching in his gripping hands. She watched his face the entire time with that sexy, evil, satisfied look—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, clearly loving the feeling of him emptying himself completely inside her.
When the last weak twitch finally left him, she stayed seated, slowly grinding, kissing his neck as his cum began leaking out around his softening cock, coating his balls and thighs in a warm, sticky mess.
“Welcome to Miami, Boston,” she whispered with a soft, wicked laugh, still impaled on him in the middle of her living room. “We just getting started, pa.”
The next morning, Eric left Kayla’s quiet little 2-bedroom house in Little Haiti with his mind spinning. The Miami sun was already beating down as he rode the bus back to his barely-used apartment, replaying every filthy, intimate detail from the night before her thick, soft ass clapping on his lap, the way her tight Zoe pussy had milked him dry, that wicked look in her eyes as he pumped load after load deep inside her.