Pissed and Proud: His Slaps, My Prolapse, Total Delight

Ever had a moment so raw, so intense, it leaves you breathless and begging for more? Let me paint you a picture. It’s a quiet evening, and he walks in with that cocky grin that drives me wild. I'm already wet, anticipation coursing through my veins. He knows what he wants, and he's not shy about it. He leads me to the bed, his hands rough against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. He pushes me down, my face against the cool sheets, and that's when I feel it—the stinging slap across my exposed flesh. I gasp, a mix of pain and pleasure surging through me. He does it again, harder this time, and I can feel the heat radiating from my skin. He knows where to hit, where to leave his mark. The slap echoes through the room, a ritualistic sound of dominance and desire. And then comes the moment I've been craving. He positions himself, his fingers grazing over my prolapse, a strange mix of tenderness and cruelty. He knows it's sensitive, and he uses it to his advantage, his touch both a punishment and a pleasure. And then, he urinates on me, a warm, soothing stream, washing away the pain, cleansing me of everything but the raw, carnal need. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a release so profound it leaves me trembling. This is what he does to me, what I let him do. It's raw, it's dirty, and it's exactly what I crave. Every slap, every touch, every drop—it's a symphony of our twisted desires, a dance of control and surrender. He owns me in that moment, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Explore the hilarious choice in Grass, Gas, Or Ass Veronna's intense solo session with a massive dildo