Emily Willis is hanging out porn pics gallery

Emily Willis has always had a thing for tall guys. It wasn't just a preference; it felt almost primal. The moment she met Jake, the captain of the city's pro basketball team, something clicked. At 6'10" (208 cm) with broad shoulders and long, powerful limbs, he towered over her delicate 5'1" (155 cm) frame. She was tiny next to him, almost doll-like, her slim waist barely reaching his hips when they stood close. And she loved that feeling - the way his shadow swallowed her completely, the way his huge hands could wrap around her ribcage like it was nothing. On the street they drew stares. People glanced twice, some smiled, others whispered. She in her tight little dresses or yoga pants, him in hoodies that still looked small on his massive build. They looked mismatched, almost comical. But Emily didn't care. She walked pressed against his side, her head barely reaching his chest, one of his long arms draped protectively around her narrow shoulders. She felt safe, small in the best way possible. And then there was the bedroom. The height difference that seemed so obvious in daylight disappeared the second they were horizontal - or vertical, or upside down, or whatever wild position Jake's strength and creativity allowed. When she straddled him, riding his thick, dark, rock-hard cock, the world narrowed to just the stretch, the fullness, the slow burn of pleasure building inside her. Her small hands braced on his wide chest, her knees barely reaching the mattress on either side of his hips. She looked tiny bouncing on him, her perky tits jiggling with each movement, her long dark hair falling forward like a curtain. Jake's big palms gripped her ass, fingers digging in, guiding her rhythm, lifting her up and down like she weighed nothing. He loved manhandling her. With almost no effort he could flip her onto her stomach, pull her hips up high, spread her thighs wide and sink into her from behind while her face pressed into the sheets. Or he'd stand at the edge of the bed, lift her clean off the ground by the backs of her thighs, her legs hooked over his forearms, and fuck her in mid-air, her whole body weight impaled on his length. She felt weightless, helpless, completely owned - and it made her come harder than anything else ever had. They experimented constantly. He once held her upside down against the wall, her legs over his shoulders, eating her out while her head dangled near the floor, blood rushing to her face as she moaned and trembled. Another time he sat on the couch, pulled her onto his lap facing away, and bounced her on his cock while one massive hand wrapped around her throat - not choking, just holding, reminding her who was in control. She came so hard she soaked his thighs, shaking uncontrollably. Their sex life was anything but boring. Every time felt like a new discovery: how deep he could go when he folded her in half, how loud she screamed when he pinned her wrists above her head with just one hand, how perfectly her small mouth stretched around the head of his cock when she tried to take more of him. The size difference wasn't a limitation - it was fuel. It turned every touch electric, every thrust overwhelming, every orgasm explosive. And afterwards, when they lay tangled together, her tiny body curled against his huge chest, his heartbeat steady under her ear, she always smiled the same quiet, satisfied smile. Safe. Small. Completely his.