Forgive Me

Aaron lays out every sin, each filthy detail poured at Jill Kassidy’s feet. Her mouth doesn’t answer, it punishes—lips tight around him, tongue lapping like it’s collecting evidence. When the list is done she climbs, blonde hair tumbling over his face as her thick bush meets his tongue. The 69 locks tight. She grinds, he laps, both sucking like they owe each other something hard. Small Hands groans into her. She rides the sound, hips snapping, thighs flexing around his skull. Then she spins, settles on her knees, back arched. He takes her from behind, slams in hard, palms spread on her ass. Every thrust slaps skin on skin; the room echoes. She pushes back, greedy. He doesn’t slow. Sweat slides. Breaths chop. She bucks, moans split, and he comes deep—creampie filling her until it leaks around his shaft and down her thigh. He stays inside, panting, still half-hard. Jill turns her head, blonde strands stuck to her mouth, and whispers, “Forgiven—for now.”