His Prepared Cold Torture

David complied, moving to the center of the bed, and watching her get on top of him. As she gathered her hair and stared eagerly at him, he muttered cheesily, "Cowgirl, huh?"

Carissa chuckled, biting her lower lip as she took control. In no time, Carissa was riding him, setting a pace that brought her the most pleasure. She moved with confidence, her hips rocking back and forth, driving him deeper with each thrust. 

"Fuck, Carissa," David groaned, his hands tangling in her hair, pulling it loose so it cascaded over his chest. "You feel so good."

Carissa's moans filled the room, each one louder and more desperate than the last. "Oh my god, yes! Fuck! Fuck!" she cried out, her eyes closing in ecstasy. The intensity of her movements heightened his desire, pushing him closer to the edge.

As she began to tire, David held onto her hips firmly, guiding her rhythm. "Come on, baby. Don't stop now," he whispered, his voice thick with lust.