Who's Really In Charge?

Clark and Ava were fucking again. Ava pinned him down, blonde hair all over his face as she rode his dick like it belonged to her. Moaning loud, tits bouncing everywhere, acting like she owned the show. Clark let her grind for a minute, watched her get lost in it, then flipped her onto her back in one quick move. He grabbed her wrists above her head and fucked her deep, making her gasp. "Shut up and take it," he growled. Ava smiled like she won the lottery every time he took charge. She liked to start, but Clark always finished, and they both knew who really ran shit.