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Psylocke Takes Her First BBC and Gets Covered
2 days ago
6.5K (6,525)
0:19
Fore More: https://www.patreon.com/imenaddrawake
Psylocke lies beneath him, thighs trembling as he drives into her with a slow, deliberate force that makes her breath hitch every time his hips meet hers. She tries to keep her composure, fingers curling against the sheets, but the deeper he sinks into her, the more her body gives itself away. Her back arches, her lips part, a soft “ah… fuck…” slipping out as she feels every inch stretching her in ways she wasn’t ready for and didn’t know she wanted.
He holds her by the hips, guiding her into each thrust, and the moment she feels the difference in his weight and size she’s gone. Her nails drag lightly across his arms, her head tipping back as her voice breaks into breathy little moans that she never meant to let out. Each thrust hits harder, deeper, and something warm and dizzying pools low in her stomach. She swears she can’t take more, yet her hips keep lifting, chasing it, craving it, addicted before she even realizes she’s crossed that line.
When he pulls back to finish, she’s already gasping, body trembling, eyes glazed with need. The heat of it paints across her stomach, and she shudders at the sensation, chest rising and falling as she stares up at him with that dazed, ruined look that says everything.
Psylocke might have walked in thinking she could handle anything, but after this, she knows she’s coming back for more.
Psylocke lies beneath him, thighs trembling as he drives into her with a slow, deliberate force that makes her breath hitch every time his hips meet hers. She tries to keep her composure, fingers curling against the sheets, but the deeper he sinks into her, the more her body gives itself away. Her back arches, her lips part, a soft “ah… fuck…” slipping out as she feels every inch stretching her in ways she wasn’t ready for and didn’t know she wanted.
He holds her by the hips, guiding her into each thrust, and the moment she feels the difference in his weight and size she’s gone. Her nails drag lightly across his arms, her head tipping back as her voice breaks into breathy little moans that she never meant to let out. Each thrust hits harder, deeper, and something warm and dizzying pools low in her stomach. She swears she can’t take more, yet her hips keep lifting, chasing it, craving it, addicted before she even realizes she’s crossed that line.
When he pulls back to finish, she’s already gasping, body trembling, eyes glazed with need. The heat of it paints across her stomach, and she shudders at the sensation, chest rising and falling as she stares up at him with that dazed, ruined look that says everything.
Psylocke might have walked in thinking she could handle anything, but after this, she knows she’s coming back for more.
