Four Days Dry and Stroking This Hard Cock

She knows exactly what she's doing to you. Her hand moves slow, up and down, eyes locked on yours. She moans, mouth open wide, a tease. The sound sends a shiver through you, your hand twitching.

Her body responds, nipples hardening under the sheer bodysuit. Her tattooed arms grip her cock tightly, the skull on her chest seeming to leer at you. She strokes faster, her breathing heavy. You can feel your own breath quickening, your pulse racing. Your gaze is drawn back to her hand, moving rhythmically.

You can't look away. Your hand moves on its own, your ache building. She raises a finger at you, then four, is she counting down? Your rhythm matches hers, your body responding to her every move. She pauses, adjusts her grip, and starts again. You're edging fast, your breath coming in short gasps.

Her moans grow louder, more urgent. Your hand strokes faster, harder. You're close, so close. Then she looks down, her face hidden from view. What happens next? Does she finish what she started? The anticipation is killing you.