The Stash - Episode 3

Her lips wrapped around him, slow and deliberate. She took her time, tongue pressed flat against the underside, saliva slicking every inch as she slid down until her nose brushed skin. He tasted clean, warm. The way he twitched in her mouth made her wetter. She pulled back, spit trailing from her lower lip, then drove down again. Deeper. She relaxed her throat and let him slide in until she gagged once, hard, then pushed past it. Her eyes watered. She didn’t care. She wanted every thick inch inside her, wanted to feel her throat stretch, feel her body give way. Her hands gripped his thighs for balance. Nails dug in. He groaned above her, low and rough. The sound went straight between her legs. She started moving. Steady rhythm. Each stroke took him from tip to root. Her tongue worked the whole way, twisting, stroking. Spit ran down his shaft, dripped onto her bare breasts. She didn’t wipe it away. Let it mark her. Let it show how messy she got when she wanted something this bad. He was close. She could taste it. Salty. Thickening. She kept her pace even, letting him feel every second of it. No rush. She wanted him to come in her mouth, wanted to swallow every drop while looking up at him with those wet, hungry eyes. She didn’t stop until he did.