Buttman's Inferno, Scene #04

Oh man, Scene 4? You know that's when shit gets real hot. She's got him backed against the wall, her hands all over that ripped chest, nails digging in just enough to make him groan. He grabs her ass, squeezes hard, pulling her closer so their hips grind like they're starving for it. Lips crash together—wet, messy kisses that taste like trouble. She drops to her knees, smirking up at him with that devilish glint, yanks down his zipper, and there it is, his cock springing free, thick and ready. No teasing; she takes him deep, throat working him like a pro, while he threads fingers through her hair, guiding the rhythm. Damn, the way she hums around him? Pure fire. He can't hold back long—thrusts get frantic, and boom, he explodes down her throat, her swallowing every drop with a wicked grin. What a way to score.