I believe you've done #6 before (added bonus of using illusion, allusion, and eluded in one), so I'll ask for #23 this time. Sated.
“Don’t move,” she ordered as she entered the room.
He was sitting on their sofa. Shirtless, in jeans. She was wearing a short, thin dress; no underwear.
Without hesitation, she took his hands, spread his arms wide and quickly secured them with the scarves she’d brought with her. He said nothing, just smiled knowing she was feeling a certain way.
She made short work of removing his jeans, revealing the erection she’d achieved through her sharp, affirmative actions. Her tits swinging with her hard nipples evident beneath her dress hadn’t hurt either.
Straddling him, her wet cunt slid easily down his shaft. She was ready to fuck. She didn’t particularly care if he wasn’t. Her warmth and wetness made him elicit a low groan.
Quickly, she began to ride. Sliding and grinding, taking what she needed.
“Fuck…” he managed to mutter under his breath.
“Don’t cum,” she ordered, which only served to make him moan and grow harder.
She was panting now, holding his shoulders, eyes closed, working him hard towards her end. Her ass slapped against his thighs, her arousal dripped down his balls.
“Don’t… cum…” she said again, this time it came out between ragged breaths as her cunt tightened around his cock.
He watched her in awe as she finally let go. Her face contorted, mouth dropped open; her voice strangled in animalistic grunts and groans; her cunt gripped him like her life depended on it.
Sated, she gingerly moved off him, legs clearly unsteady after the rush of pleasure.
“I haven’t cum yet,” he murmured, as she untied his wrists.
“Oh honey,” she whispered as she stroked his face, “This wasn’t about you.” She kissed him gently and walked off to have a shower.
Hesitating for only a moment, he jumped to his feet; delighting in her squeals when he caught her.
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