Elena spotted Marcus across the crowded lounge, his tailored suit doing little to hide the tension in his shoulders. She approached with a predator's grace, sliding into the seat beside him. "I've watched you dodge three women tonight," she said, voice low and sharp. "Impressive restraint, but I'm not here to play coy. Tell me, Marcus, are you always this hard to catch, or just waiting for someone who knows what she wants?"
Marcus raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "And what makes you think you know what I want, Elena?"
She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Because your eyes have been undressing me since I walked in. I'm horny, dripping wet, and done with small talk. My place is five minutes away. Your move."
Their banter crackled like electricity—witty jabs about fantasies and regrets—until she stood, pulling him by the tie. In her apartment, Elena shoved him against the wall, her hands already working his belt. "No submission here," she whispered, dropping to her knees. "I take what I want." She freed his hard cock, her tongue teasing before taking him in a slow, deliberate blowjob that left him panting and sweating.
She rose, stripping with confident flair, her ass grinding against him as she guided his hands. "Fuck me like you mean it," she commanded, pushing him onto the couch. Straddling him, her wet pussy dripped onto his throbbing length before she sank down, riding him with fierce rhythm. Their bodies slammed together, her strong thighs controlling every thrust, until they both came hard—her pussy clenching as cum spilled, leaving them breathless and glistening.
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