Miles and Vanessa fuck

The bedroom door closes behind them and the noise of the party drops away entirely.

Vanessa stands in the center of the room and looks at him with those dark unhurried eyes. Then without a word she reaches behind her and unzips the black dress, letting it fall to the floor around her feet.

Underneath she is wearing black lingerie, intricate and fitted, the kind that looks like it was chosen with exactly this moment in mind. She steps out of the dress and leaves it where it fell, completely unbothered, completely at ease in her own skin in a way that makes the room feel like her territory.

She looks at him for a moment.

Then she crosses to him, takes his tie in both hands, and loosens it slowly. She undoes his shirt buttons one by one, her fingers unhurried, her eyes on his face the entire time. She pushes the shirt off his shoulders and drops it. Undoes his belt. Unzips his tros and pushes everything down in one clean motion.

She wraps her hand around his cock and strokes once, her expression not changing.

Vanessa: she says it quietly, almost to herself. good.

She pushes him on the bed and gets in between his legs. She takes his cock in her mouth slowly, her eyes closing briefly at the first taste, one hand at the base working in rhythm with her mouth. She is thorough and unhurried, taking her time, building gradually. Her free hand moves to his thigh, her nails light against his skin.

He puts a hand in her hair. She lets him, adjusting her pace when his grip tightens, her dark eyes finding his from below.

Miles: Vanessa, fuck your mouth is so good.

Vanessa gets on top of him and straddles him, reaching down to position his cock at her entrance. She is still in her lingerie — bra, thong, everything. She simply reaches down and slides the thin fabric of her thong to the side.

She sinks down onto his cock slowly.

Her head drops back at the feeling, her lips parting, a sound escaping that she does not try to contain.

Vanessa: oh.

She stays still for a moment, adjusting. Then she starts to move.

She rides him slowly at first, her hands on his chest, her hips rolling in a deliberate unhurried rhythm. She is completely controlled, her expression focused, her body moving with a precision that makes it very difficult to think clearly.

She reaches behind her and unclasps her bra. She does not take it off entirely — it slides down her shoulders and hangs loose around her waist, her breasts completely exposed. She does not acknowledge this. She simply keeps moving, her pace building gradually.

She hugs him tight pressing her boobs firmly against his chest. Just moving her waist like an exotic stripper riding his cock hard.

Miles: He grips her thighs. you are unbelievable.

She looks down at him, something flickering behind her dark eyes.

Vanessa: She says it without breaking her rhythm. I know.

She picks up the pace, her hands moving from his chest into her own hair, her head dropping back. Her thong is still pulled to the side, his cock sliding in and out of her pussy around the thin strip of fabric, the sensation different and extraordinary for both of them.

She comes the first time quietly and intensely, her whole body shuddering, her rhythm stuttering before she finds it again.

He rolls her over.

She lands on her back beneath him, slightly breathless, looking up with dark eyes. He pushes inside her and she wraps her legs around him immediately, pulling him deeper.

Missionary now, face to face, his weight on his forearms above her. He moves with a steady building rhythm, her hips rising to meet every stroke. She reaches up and pulls him down by the neck, her mouth at his ear.

Vanessa: She says it quietly, her accent thickening slightly. harder.

He gives her harder.

Her nails find his back. She comes a second time with her legs locked around him, shaking, his name somewhere in the sound she makes.

He slows. He turns her gently onto her side and positions himself behind her, his chest against her back, spooning. He pushes inside her from behind and she exhales slowly at the new angle.

They move together slowly, his arm around her waist, her hand over his. It is quieter than everything before it, more intimate, her dark hair against his jaw.

She comes again, quietly, her hand tightening over his.

Then he turns her onto her stomach.

She goes willingly, stretching out flat beneath him, her arms above her head. He moves her thong fully aside and goes down on her from behind, his mouth on her pussy, his hands flat on the small of her back.

She makes a sound into the pillow that she would never make anywhere else.

Vanessa: oh god. She says it in Croatian first, then in English. don't stop.

He does not stop. He works her with his mouth until she is shaking beneath him, her hands gripping the pillow, her hips pressing back against his face.

She comes hard, muffled against the pillow, her whole body shuddering.

He moves up her body and positions himself at her entrance from behind, his hands finding her waist. He pushes inside her slowly, both of them going still for a moment at the .

Then he grips her waist and begins to move.

The prone bone position is deep and precise, every stroke hitting somewhere that makes her gasp into the pillow. He holds her tiny waist in both hands and picks up the pace, feeling her completely beneath him, her body taking everything he gives.

Vanessa:She turns her head to the side, breathless. oh my god.

He does not hold back. He drives into her hard and deep, the headboard finding the wall, Vanessa beneath him completely undone, her usual composure entirely gone, replaced by something raw and completely genuine.

Vanessa: yes. yes yes.. yes. Don't stop. Please don't stop.

He does not stop.

He fucks her hard and deep, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her back against every thrust. She comes apart beneath him, shaking, crying out into the pillow, her hands gripping the sheets with white knuckles.

He pulls out and comes hard across her ass, one hand gripping the headboard above her.

He stays still for a moment, both of them breathing hard.

Vanessa does not move immediately. She lies flat beneath him, her cheek against the pillow, her dark hair spread around her, her chest rising and falling slowly.

Then she turns her head and looks at him over her shoulder.

Her composure is completely gone. In its place is something quieter and more genuine, an expression he suspects very few people have ever seen on her face.