Tifa's Consolation

Tifa's pussy clamped down, milking Barrett's cock of every drop of cum it could get. Heat flooded her, hotter than ever expected and still not enough. Tifa's moan got higher and higher until her voice cut out entirely, her taut body letting everything go as Barrett held her down and rode out his orgasm, which was currently leaking out from between them and onto the floor.

She could've laid like that forever, crushed and filled by a large, powerful, sexy man. Barrett had other plans. He withdrew from her, letting out a torrent of his cum. He pulled Tifa away from the bar and down onto the floor with him in his lap. She let herself curl up in his arms as she panted and fought to catch her breath, regain control of her limbs, to do something other than laying in a pile of sticky, sweaty limbs. That didn't happen for another five minutes as Barrett stroked her hair.

"I'm going to have to clean all of this up," she finally said. "Before the lunch rush comes."

Barrett laughed, and from her position it was like thunder. "Naw. I'll clean up this up before I go. You need some sleep. An' a shower," he added, laughing again.

He was so warm. Tifa snuggled up into his chest, not minding the sweat or the stink of their sex together. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him. "I needed that."

He nodded, his smile all but disappearing. "Good," he said. "I'm glad. And you don't have to worry none. I know this was a one time thing. I ain't greedy."

Tifa reached up and stroked his cheek. She loved the way his beard felt against her fingertips. "Maybe," she said. "Maybe not."