He arrived a l*ttle tense, but I knew it wouldn't last.

I was waiting for him in a discreet hotel room, seated near the window in a fabric club chair, wearing a bl*ck dress, bl*ck heels, and bl*ck lingerie.

A deliberate contrast against my skin. A silent invitation.

A book in hand, I turned the pages slowly, until I sensed him approach.

I didn't even lift my eyes. I simply let the book fall to the floor, crossed my legs, adjusted my posture, and placed my hands on my thighs.

He noticed my fresh, glossy red manicure right away.

I knew what he wanted. I could feel it in the way his gaze traveled down my legs, so I began to stroke them slowly, first my thighs, then my shins, then higher... over my breasts through the fabric.

And then, without looking at him, as if I were alone, I bared one of my breasts and began to massage it gently.

But I wasn't alone.

And I knew he wouldn't stay still for long.

He undressed. Naked, he stepped closer, his c*ck already hard, eager.

I extended a finger, slowly, and began to trace him with the tip.

The head, the shaft, the b*lls... every inch deserved my attention.

Soon, my other hand joined in, sliding under his testicles to support them, while I wrapped him c*mpletely.

Then, I drew him closer.

I bared my breast and began to rub his throbbing tip against my n*pple.

Gently, again and again, then on the other breast as well.

Watching my nipples harden with every stroke was as arousing for me as it was for him.

He was close. I could tell. He pulled back. I let him.

I kept caressing my chest, but my eyes followed his. He was staring at my heels.

So, without saying a word, I slowly slipped them off and let him admire my red-polished feet.

He knelt, hungry. I guided him, and soon, his c*ck was gliding between my toes.

I gripped him there, hands above, feet below.

But he stood up again, craving something more, something else.

I coated him with lubricant, then took him in both hands.

My movements were slow, deliberate.

I could feel he was ready.

So I pressed him against my nipples again and resumed.

But he wanted to hold on. He stepped back once more.

I caressed him with the tips of my fingers, gently, lengthily, while continuing to massage his b*lls, firmer, deeper.

And then... a hot stream burst between my hands, pulsing against my n*pple.

My chest, my fingers, my thighs all bathed in his pleasure.

I kept it on my skin, warm and glistening, like an offering.

Then, as always, I slowly rubbed it in hands, breasts, thighs.

I looked at him without saying a word.

I knew he wouldn't forget any of it.

You know, Victor... I love when you hesitate between my heels and my nipples.

Mlle Ophéline

C*mshots Female Domination Amateur Victor Varenzo, Between My Heels and My Nipples - english version - 4K with C4s.com