Madrastra atrapa a su hijastro masturbándose y le ayuda a correrse rápidamente en su coño mientras su marido está en casa

I wanted to protest, to stop him, but my body betrayed me, arching into his touch, craving more. Every movement sent electric jolts through me, lighting up parts of my body I didn’t even know existed. I was eager to prove I wasn’t just some scrawny guy who got winded climbing stairs. He didn’t miss it. It’s all leverage.”

“Right… Never mind that I was built more like a stick figure than a Spartan. His hands were broad, calloused from years of practice and lifting weights, but they moved with a surprising gentleness as he lathered me up. Just a row of shower heads and a cloud of steam thick enough to choke on. But his thumb pressed at an angle, right against my hole, that made my knees buckle slightly. I tried to focus on my own chest, scrubbing at it like it might somehow transform into something worthy of comparison. His hands were broad, calloused from years of practice and lifting weights, but they moved with a surprising gentleness as he lathered me up. I was screaming internally. But deep down, I knew I’d crossed a line.