That you wrap your legs around me again and I have to smell your milk cartons was not what I wanted to achieve.
So that you at least let go of my hair, I take my hands and give you good slaps.
On your thighs, on your ass, on your flanks and on your arms.
Then everything again from the start or back.
As you like.
Your skin is covered with red handprints.
The clapping sound of my punches echoes through the bar.
You hold my hair stubbornly, my blows get louder and harder.
You squeeze your legs tighter and I groan under the pressure.
OK! If you don't want it any other way.
I take my left hand and reach for it.
You already know each other.
My fingers and your pussy.
And my fingers deepen this acquaintance by pinching it hard.
