Three Days Sober and My Feet Are Begging for Cock

She knows exactly what she's doing to you. Her legs are bent, her feet are raised, and your hand is already moving. She's glistening with oil, her skin shimmering in the sunlight. Her eyes lock onto yours, daring you to stroke harder. Every pose is deliberate, every curve accentuated.

Her fingers wrap around her ankle, holding it steady as she arches her back. Her mouth parts slightly, inviting you deeper. The way she touches herself is slow and deliberate, teasing out every moment. You can feel your pulse racing, your breath catching in your throat. She's not going to give you everything at once, she's going to make you wait.

But the anticipation is almost too much to bear. You're hard and aching, your hand moving in time with her gentle touches. How long will you last? Not much longer, if she keeps looking at you like that... She shifts her weight, her body undulating in the sunlight. Her eyes never leave yours, her gaze burning with desire. You can feel yourself edging closer, your rhythm quickening. Just when you think it's all going to spill over...