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She sits, legs spread, back against the wall, her voice a whip cracking in the air. 'Stroke,' she commands, and you obey, your hand moving up and down your shaft. She watches, her eyes locked onto your cock, her own hand rubbing her slick folds. 'Faster,' she demands, her voice growing more insistent. You edge, teetering on the brink, your body tensing. 'Now,' she orders, and you cum, your body convulsing, her voice echoing in your mind, 'Good boy.'