"Did you hear that, boys? Adele's just confirmed how small her husband's equipment is. Now I'm even more excited to see that tight, pink, married pussy of yours stretch around this rich kid's cock!" His words were a twisted, perverse compliment, a further degradation of her situation.
Adele, her body trembling, her mind racing, grasped Ross's massive length.
She worked her way around it, her fingers gently tracing the swollen head, coaxing the organ until it was slick with a mixture of her own pre-lubricated juices and the residue of Ross's arousal.
Her body, taut with tension, her senses focused on the task at hand, and with a slow, deliberate movement, she began to lower herself onto the cock.
The air in the room crackled with a palpable tension. Every move, every hesitation, magnified by the oppressive silence.
The anticipation was almost unbearable.
Her eyes, though downcast, held a flicker of defiance, a silent vow to endure.
