Slamming His Cock Between Isabella’s Thighs

Title: Thigh-Master: Isabella’s Flesh Cock Squeezer

The sun was setting, casting a warm, amber glow through the window as Isabella lounged on the bed. Her slender, caramel-toned legs stretched out before her, each a finely sculpted work of art. She knew her body was her greatest asset – the envy of many. But she wasn’t satisfied. No, she had a hunger that needed feeding. And she was ready to feast.

Isabella glanced over at Tyrell, reclining in the armchair, his muscular ebony frame barely contained within the confines of his boxer shorts. She smirked, her eye-toothy grin gleaming in the fading light. He was her American Gigolo, always eager to please. Up for anything.

“Hey sugah,” Tyrell drawled, “whatcha be thinkin’ about, you lookin’ mighty hung per se.”

Isabella didn’t answer, instead crooking a finger at him, beckoning. Tyrell rose lazily and sauntered over with a wink, his abs rippling with each step.

“Miss Isabella wants something’, I knows that look.” He clambered onto the bed, his hands roaming over her smooth skin, sliding up her sides. She could feel his hardness pressing against her hip through the thin fabric of his boxers. It made her shudder with desire.

“Nuh-uh, sugah. Not like that.” Isabella gently pushed him away, then hopped off the bed. She walked over to her dresser and rummaged in the top drawer, retrieving a long, silky scarf. She knew what she wanted tonight. A different kind of pleasure.

Tyrell watched curiously as she approached, holding out the scarf. “ift’ dat fer me?”

Isabella knelt on the floor between his spread legs, her ample breasts almost spilling out of her sheer lace bra. She worked the silky fabric around his waist, wrapping it tightly from hip to hip, trap ping his pants in place. His cock strained harder against the confines of his shorts.

“Now, less see what you h yours,” Isabella purred, her fingers skimming teasingly along his inner thighs. Taking her time, she slowly dragged the scarf free inch by excrutiating inch. The head of his cock bobbed with each movement as she worked the fabric out from under the elastic band.

Isabella tossed the scarf aside and sat back on her heels, admiring her handiwork. A damp spot darkened the front of his shorts. “Well, well, look at you. Already hard and leakin’.”

Tyrell groaned softly. “You know wh’all do to me, girl. Shit.”

Isabella licked her lips slowly. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she gripped the waistband of his shorts and yanked them down in one swift motion, freeing his thick, 10-inch ebony cock. It sprang up, slapping against his abs and leaving a smear of precum on his skin.

“Damn… that is one fine bit of chocolate.” Isabella leaned in, dragging her tongue from base to tip in one long, slow lick along the underside. Tyrell’s hips bucked involuntarily as she flicked the pearl of precum from his slit.

She flipped around, spreading her thighs on either side of his hips, giving him a perfect view of her firm, heart-shaped rear. She reached back and grabbed his cock, stroking it in slow, firm pumps as she rubbed the drooling head in the crevice of her ass.

“Ungh yeah, stroke that coal-black cock,” Tyrell moaned, his hands coming up to grab her wide hips.

She continued to tease him, rubbing his cock between her cheeks, sliding it up and down, but not taking him in. He bucked his hips, trying to force entry but she slapped his hands away. “Ah-ahh, not yet. You don’t get to cum till I say so.”

Isabella rose up on her knees and slipped him between her thighs, his bulbous head nudging her dripping wet slit. Her cunt kissed the tip, smearing her arousal on him. “Mmmm, you like that, don’tcha?”

She kept sliding, his cock trapped between her flawlessly smooth, chocolate skin and the silky heat of her most sensitive areas. The pressure was intense, velvety sleek, so sneaky tight… fuck, Isabella was gonna drive him crazy!

“Fuck! Ohh fuck…” Tyrell bucked into her rhythm, unable to restrain himself as she slid along his sensitive underside. Isabella moaned throatily, stroking her clit with two fingers as she used his cock to pleasure herself.

The wet pressure, hissing and sucking sounds seemed to fill the room. Both Tyrell’s hands were squeezing her hips, pulling her down harder against him, wanting to feel her insides.

“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me…” Isabella grimaced, then came hard, her thighs rippling and tightening around him. She effectively milked him like a cock sock as a flood of her womanly juices soaked him.

That was too much for Tyrell. “Ohhh shit, I’m cumming!” He let out a shuddering groan, electric warmth blasting between her thighs as thick ropes of cum splattered her ass and pussy.

Spent, Isabella collapsed on top of him, their combined juices smearing between their bodies. “Damn, that was some good shit,” Tyrell sighed.

Isabella giggled breathlessly, languidly stroking his softening cock. “Now, what else you got for me, sugar man? I’m ready for round 2.”

The rest of the night slipped by in a haze of mutual pleasure and debauchery. Isabella’s thighs were sore the next day, her full lips still swollen, but it was a good ache… the kinda ache that comes from fucking yourself stupid… which was exactly what Isabella had done. And she was ready to let you watch her do it over… and over…