This is not his celebratory ruin clip, but he doesn't know that! I'm sick to death of finishing an intense, transcendent, intimate tease-edge-and-deny session with my boy only to sigh and say, "Damn, we should've turned the camera on for that." This happens on a daily/nightly basis. So tonight, dressed in his favorite pervy "college co-ed" attire, I set us up in the ruin room for a typical turning out for QGP Boy. It'd be a shame not to showcase these talents. I sit on him in thin silky panties and polka dot knee-high socks and give him a face full of ass and pussy. My long glossy natural fingernails run over the fabric, pulling the panties up into my delicious ass and then down down down, so he can take in all of me -- full and bare on his face. He's all whipped up by the time he takes off his boxers and settles in for an edging. The plateaus we reach and push past would make a sailor blush. I'm sugar and spice. It feels good but only to a certain point. The bullying, the mocking ... the confidence I have in denying him and showing no mercy ... gets him to the next edge plateau. Teased with the possibility of a ruin followed by a messy chastity lockup, he seems almost encouraged, only to have his hopes dashed when the talk turns to locking up without any release. His desperation is seeping out of his pores; his cock stays dry. I spit on him. Ride his thigh. Circle the tip. Press on the taint. Sink nails into his balls. Scratch his nipples. All those close calls, and I still walk away, leaving him pulsating there like it's nothing to me. And it's not. Because I'll just do it again tonight, but even better. Even worse.