Demanding Friction—fast And Relentless The Callouses Of His Palms Scrape Against The Sensitive Skin Of Your Head, His Knuckles Grazing Your Hipbone Then, Cupping You With A Possessive Weight That Makes Your Breath Hitch In Your Throat He Doesn't Just Hold You; He Squeezes AI Gay Porn
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View This StyleRiley's fingertips hook beneath the elastic waistband of your underwear. He doesn't rush. He lingers there, the tension building until it's almost, his knuckles grazing your hipbone. Then, with a slow, deliberate slide, he pushes his hand inside. The contact is immediate and searing. I'm slightly hard as Riley warm hands cup my cock and balls The world is a blur of heavy eyelids and muffled sounds, but the feeling of his hand is crystal clear. It's a sudden, overwhelming heat that floods your senses, grounding you in the mattress. Riley's palm is wide and warm, cupping you with a possessive weight that makes your breath hitch in your throat. He doesn't just hold you; he squeezes, a slow, testing pressure that sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. You groan softly, the sound vibrating deep in your chest, and you feel him shudder against your back. The sound of your voice—half-and needy—seems to snap something inside him. You keep your but there's no mistaking his touch now. The rough pad of his thumb sweeps over the head of your cock, dragging through the sticky precome already gathering there. He lets out a rough, uneven breath that ghosts across your shoulder blade. "Jesus, " he murmurs, voice thick. His fingers tighten around you, stroking once, twice—slow enough to feel every ridge, every pulse of heat beneath his palm. "You're...fuck, you're perfect." His other hand comes up to join the first, both gripping you now, rolling you between his palms with careful reverence. The weight of his hands is absolute, a heavy, searing heat that anchors you to the bed. You keep your, clinging to the remnants of sleep, but the sensation is too vivid to ignore—the sliding friction of his calloused palms, the rhythmic, possessive squeeze that makes your toes curl. Every slide of his grip feels like he's mapping you, memorizing the hardness of you through the haze of your drowsiness. Riley's breathing is a wrecked sound beside your ear, erratic and hungry. He isn't just pleasuring you; he's consuming you. he pumps my cock The haze of sleep finally shatters, replaced by a white-hot surge of adrenaline as Riley shifts from reverence to raw, driving need. His grip tightens, his fingers locking around your shaft with a strength that borders on, and he begins to pump. It isn't a gentle motion. It's a rhythmic, demanding friction—fast and relentless. The callouses of his palms scrape against the sensitive skin of your head, creating a searing heat that makes your hips instinctively buck back against him. You let out a gasp, your eyes snapping open to the dim light of the room, but you don't move to stop him. You can't. Riley doesn't pause. His free hand slides lower, curling around your balls with the same careful pressure, rolling them between his fingers as he pistons his grip faster. You're fully awake now, every nerve ending alight with the intensity of his touch. The mattress creaks under your shifting weight, your body curling and tensing as he works you over. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, thudding in sync with the frantic rhythm of his hands. He's sweating now, his damp skin sliding against yours, the musk of him and the damp air of the shower mingling into something primal. His breath is ragged against your ear, words thick with need. "Fuck, you feel..." I'm hard The words die in his throat, replaced by a guttural sound of . He doesn't finish the sentence because he can't; he's too busy chasing the friction, his hand moving in a blur of motion that leaves your skin singing. You are rock hard, a rigid line of tension that he grips with a possessive, white-knuckled intensity. Every slide of his palm is a challenge, a demand for you to break. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his chest heaves against your shoulder blades, his heart hammering like a bird against your back. The rhythm is frantic now, a, driving pace that pushes you closer and closer to the edge. I'm close The coil of tension in your body tightens, a growing storm of sensation as Riley's relentless strokes bring you hurtling toward the edge. Your hips jerk erratically, seeking more friction, your breath coming in ragged. One, fully naked, erect nipples, detailed nipples, sweaty, relaxed, embarrassed, blonde dark hair, perm, semen, lying on bed, blushing, bukkake, penis, pubic hair, torogao, pectoral muscles, steaming body, sweat, sweatdrop, breath, full-face blush, open mouth wide, saliva trail, drooling, twitching, motion blur, wince, head back, toned che st, wiry, heart-shaped pupi ls, ejaculation, glossy wet skin, flacid penis, saggy balls, dynamic angle, very aesthetic, amazing quality, high detail, high resolution, hdr, 8k, photorealistic, muscular, face covered by pillow, mazjojo art style. with rope and blindfolded, hairy dark armpits, rope BDSM, wrists, slight stubble, tight blindfold. covered in sweat, wet
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