Swing - Episode 7

Kris slid down Dave's body until her knees pressed into the carpet. Her fingers worked his belt open in two quick tugs. She freed him, wrapped her hand around the base, and took him into her mouth without pause. Her cheeks hollowed. Saliva gathered at the corners of her lips and ran down the length of him. Dave's head fell back against the couch. One hand tangled in her hair, the other gripped the cushion. He thrust up once, shallow, then twice, testing. Kris held steady. She kept the rhythm even, tight, wet. Her tongue pressed flat against the underside each time she pulled back. A low sound came from his throat, half breath, half word. She answered with a small hum that vibrated through him. Her free hand cupped his balls, rolled them gently, then squeezed just enough. He twitched hard in her mouth. She pulled off, strings of spit still connecting her lower lip to the head, then licked a slow circle around the crown before sinking down again. Her throat opened. She took him deeper this time, nose brushing the dark hair at his base. Dave's thighs tensed under her palms. The muscles jumped. He pulled her hair tighter, guiding her pace now, and she let him. Each downward stroke grew a fraction faster. Wet sounds filled the quiet room. When he started to pulse she didn't pull away. She stayed low, swallowed around him, throat working until he finished. Only then did she ease back, lips swollen, chin damp, eyes half-lidded and steady on his face.