Beg for My Thick Ass on the Balcony at Night

She knows exactly what she's doing to you. Her dark skin glistens against the pink bodysuit, and those curves, oh god, those curves are on full display as she kneels on the rug, her mouth working its magic. You can't help but stroke along with her rhythm, your pulse racing as he holds her head, guiding her movements. The way he grips her hips when they shift to doggy style against the glass door is possessive, primal, and it makes your hand move faster.

The slap to her buttock makes you jump, your breath catching in your throat. The butterfly tattoo on her left cheek seems to flutter as she moves, and you're dying to touch it, to feel the softness of her skin. When they move outdoors onto the balcony, the city lights twinkle like diamonds behind them, and you feel like a voyeur, peeking in on their intimate moment. She straddles him in the hanging chair, riding him with abandon, and you can almost hear the creak of the chair, the moans of pleasure.

Your hand is moving on its own now, your rhythm matching theirs as they shift positions again. The close-up of her face, her lips wrapped around him, is almost too much to bear. You're edging closer and closer, your breath coming in short gasps. The final shot of him penetrating her from behind against the balcony railing is seared into your brain, you need to see more.