When he is about to cum, she constricts her throat around his pulsing head, muscles firm like she is singing a soprano aria. His left thigh clenches, deliberately at first, then faster and faster until it is practically vibrating. When she moans, deeply muffled, his cock jerks hard, again and again, as though it is trying to escape her, blasting hot halfway down her esophagus.
Afterwards, he slides her body up along his, warm and sticky with sweat, until her face is pressed into his neck, where veins still throb.
“I always think,” he whispers into her hair, “what would be the worst thing to say during sex.”
“Well.” She picks a piece of his chest hair off of her nipple. “I can tell you the worst thing to say after sex.”
0 Responses to “probably your mouth could be more usefully employed”