Five Days of Handjobs and This Slut Is Still Stroking

She knows exactly what she's doing to you. She's got him in her hands, her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, her fair skin glowing. Her hands move up and down, her grip firm, her eyes locked on yours. You can see the effort in her face, the strain in her expression. She's not holding back, she's going for it. Her light-colored nails gleam in the natural light, and the ring on her left hand catches your eye.

Her movements get more vigorous, more intense. She's not pausing, not slowing down. She's focused on what she's doing, her concentration clear in her face. You can see the physical exertion, the effort she's putting in. Her mouth is closed, but you can imagine the sounds she might make. The man is relaxed under her touch, letting her do her thing. You can feel your own pulse racing, your own breathing getting heavier.

She keeps going, steady and deliberate. Her pace is relentless, driving you closer and closer to the edge. You can feel your hand moving on its own, stroking to the rhythm of her movements. You're getting harder, wetter, your ache growing. How long will you last? Can you hold out as long as she does? There's only one way to find out.