Violet Parr begging for more (Ahegao BJ + Anal): 140+ images in download-link

The sun was warm on my back.
The flowers were soft beneath my knees.
And he was standing in front of me like he owned the whole damn world — and me with it.

I looked up at him, smiling as I let my fingers trail up his thighs. He was already hard. Already waiting. Already knowing what I wanted before I even opened my mouth.

“Please,” I whispered, licking my lips.

He didn’t have to say a word. Just stepped closer. I closed my eyes as his hand slid into my hair — firm, possessive, perfect.

And then I took him in.

The first taste always made me moan. The weight. The heat. The control he had over me with just one quiet breath. I hollowed my cheeks and let him guide me — deeper, slower, rougher — until my throat tightened, and my eyes watered, and drool spilled down my chin into the petals below.

I didn’t care how messy I looked.

In fact… I wanted to look ruined.

I wanted him to see my eyes roll back. I wanted him to feel the way my body shivered every time he hit the back of my throat. I wanted to give him that look — tongue out, mouth open, brain gone.

The one he loved.

When he pulled me off with a soft growl, I was panting, flushed, soaked between my legs, and dizzy with need.

“Turn around,” he said.

God, yes.

I dropped forward onto my hands and knees, ass high, dress pushed up around my waist, no panties — because I knew where this was going.

When he slid into me — not gently, not slowly — I gasped, loud and sharp, head dropping forward as my body clenched around the stretch. He didn’t wait. He just held me there, hips slamming into mine, one hand gripping my hair, the other on my waist, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.

And I wanted it too. I craved it.

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Just moaned like a mess, mouth open, tongue hanging, face twisted in pleasure so deep it didn’t feel real.

I looked back at him once — just once — and I knew what I looked like.

Eyes unfocused. Mouth drooling. Hair wild. Body twitching.
Blissed-out. Fucked dumb. Blooming for him.

He whispered filthy things while he used me — how tight I felt, how good I looked falling apart, how badly I needed this. I nodded. I agreed with everything. Even when I couldn’t form words.

Because I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Only here.
Bent over in the flowers.
Full of him.
Completely his.

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