She shoved him onto the bed the second the door shut. "Pants off. Now." Her voice was low and flat, no teasing. He stripped fast, cock already half hard from the look in her eyes. She climbed on the mattress naked, bottle of lube in one hand, and straddled his thighs facing him. Her tits hung heavy, nipples tight.
She poured thick lube straight onto his shaft and wrapped both hands around it without warning. Her grip was firm from the start, no light strokes, just full pressure sliding from root to head. She twisted on the upstroke and squeezed the head hard on the downstroke, milking the pre-cum out in steady beads. "Look at that fucking cock leaking already," she muttered. "I'm going to empty these balls."
He groaned and tried to thrust but she planted her weight and kept the rhythm steady and brutal. Both palms worked him in long, twisting pulls, thumbs pressing under the head every time.
Lube squelched loud between her fingers. She watched his face the whole time, eyes locked on his while her hands never slowed. When his breathing hitched she tightened her grip even more and stroked faster, forcing the first spurt out. Thick ropes shot up his stomach and chest. She didn't stop. She kept jerking through the orgasm, squeezing every pulse out of him until the cum ran over her knuckles.
"Still hard," she said, voice rough. "Good." She shifted lower, one hand cupping his balls, rolling them while the other kept pumping the shaft. Her thumb rubbed the sensitive spot right under the head in tight circles. He cursed and his hips jerked but she held him down with her body. Another load built fast. She leaned in, spit on the head for extra slickness, and worked both hands in opposite directions, one up, one down, twisting hard. He came again, weaker but still messy, cum dribbling over her fingers instead of shooting. She milked it out with short, firm strokes until nothing else came.
She didn't let go. She kept the pressure constant, slower now, dragging every last twitch from his over-sensitive cock. "One more," she ordered. She poured more lube, making everything wet and sloppy again. Her hands slid easier but the grip stayed tight. She focused on the head, both palms rubbing over it in fast circles while her fingers milked the shaft below. He was shaking, trying to pull back, but she followed him, never breaking contact. It took longer, his cock twitching in her fists, but she kept going until a third, thin spurt leaked out. She worked it down the length, squeezing from base to tip until he was completely dry and softening in her hands.
Finally she let go. Cum and lube coated her palms and his stomach. She wiped her hands on his thigh, stood up, and grabbed a towel. "Clean yourself up," she said. "I'm not done with you tonight." She walked out of the room without looking back. He lay there breathing hard, cock spent and sticky, knowing she meant every word.
