Her feet moved.
Both of them. On his cock. She sandwiched the shaft between her soles— the arches pressing against the sides, the heels against the base, the toes against the head. She stroked. Up and down. The rhythm was slow. Deliberate. The rhythm of a woman who is savoring. Her toes worked the head— tracing the ridge, pressing the slit, spreading the pre-cum. Her arches worked the shaft— the smooth skin sliding, the veins pulsing against her soles.
"Hahh... it is so thick... I can feel the veins... they are pulsing... like a heartbeat..." she moaned. Her hips were moving— grinding against the air, her pussy aching, empty, needing. "Your cock is beautiful... I have never... I have never looked at one like this... so close... so hard... so big..."
Raven grabbed her hips.
