Playboy Morning Show - Episode 287

She took him to her throat in one swallow. Her lips sealed around the base, nose pressed to his stomach, and she held there until her eyes watered. When she pulled back she left a wet shine that caught the light. He grunted and his hand found the back of her head, fingers curling into her hair. She didn’t wait for him to push. She took him again, deeper, letting the head bump the soft give of her throat each time. Spit ran down her chin in thin lines and dripped onto her chest, darkening the silk. He tasted clean and sharp, like he’d just stepped out of the shower, but the salt started to rise as she worked. She pulled off for air and a string of saliva stretched between her bottom lip and the flushed head. It snapped when she leaned back in. Her hand replaced her mouth, sliding slick and tight from root to tip, twisting on each upstroke while her tongue flicked the slit. He hissed and his hips jerked. She smiled against him, then took him back in. No tease now—just the steady rhythm of someone who knew exactly how long he could last and meant to push him right to that edge and hold him there. Her free hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them draw tighter with every pass of her mouth. When she moaned around him the vibration ran straight up his spine. He swore, low and rough, and she answered by sinking all the way down once more, holding him there until her throat fluttered around the head. She backed off just enough to breathe, then did it again. The wet sounds filled the room—soft, obscene, constant. She didn’t slow until his grip in her hair tightened to the edge of pain and his thighs shook under her palms. Only then did she ease up, lips sliding free with a soft pop, her tongue catching the last bead of fluid that welled from the tip. She looked up at him, mouth glistening, and smiled like she’d just won something.