Dommy Stepmommy JOI

Tyler was beating his meat hard when Reagan Foxx—his stepmom—walked straight in. Her eyes went wide. So did his. She snapped at him, face flushed with fake outrage, but her pussy was already getting slick. He was mortified for half a second, then that shame twisted straight into lust at the sound of her scolding him. “Jesus, don’t even know how to stroke your own cock right,” Reagan snarled, stepping closer like she owned the room—and him. Her voice dripped with contempt, and Tyler’s dick jerked in his fist like it wanted to salute. She smirked. Yeah, she saw. She always saw. She kept talking—slow, deliberate strokes only, grip looser, twist at the head, don’t rush like some horny teenage virgin. Tyler obeyed like it was gospel, hips twitching every time she mocked his form, every word making him throb. He loved the sting of it. Eventually Reagan rolled her eyes, annoyed at playing teacher. She shoved his hand away, wrapped her fingers around him, firm and sure. “My turn.” She worked him like she’d been waiting to—smooth, ruthless pumps, teasing the ridge, cupping his balls, dirty little commentary sliding out between clenched teeth. Tyler’s head dropped back. He wasn’t in charge of a single fucking thing anymore, and that fact alone had him ready to blow. Reagan watched his face the whole time, knowing exactly what she was doing to him—and loving it.