Whatever, we will deal with that later! Roselyn just got serious.
One hand kept stroking my dick—long, twisting pulls from base to tip, fingers squeezing rhythmically so the skin glided smooth and hot over the swollen head.
Her other palm flattened directly against the tip, cupping the sensitive crown while she rolled it in tight, deliberate circles.
The pressure was perfect—firm enough to make my thighs tense, but slow enough that every rotation dragged the slit across her palm, spreading fresh pre-cum in glossy streaks.
Each roll sent sharp jolts straight up my spine; the head throbbed visibly, flushed dark red, veins bulging as her hand twisted and squeezed in counter-rhythm to the stroking below.
Oh God! If I'm not careful, I'll lose! And she'll have my baby!
So when I decided to think of a comeback, something devilish occurred.
