The soft, moistened flesh slides across her lips. Her nimble tongue makes slow, deliberate, patient circles around the firm, spongy head.
The slow, patient, measured, torturously slow sensation spreading warmth and lust and obedience throughout the body, throughout the mind. The warm, pillowy lips closing ever-so-slightly to kiss and just barely suck on the oh-so-sensitive tip.
Every thought, every word, every whim, every will fixated on the next lick, the next caress, the next suck, the next sensation. Hot, insistent need welling up like boiling steam in a kettle … a kettle that will not, must not, cannot boil until she draws his manhood deep inside her heavenly mouth.
Until he submits to her.
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