Katie's Special Tricks

Katie pushes in, mouth wide, lips stretched around Mick’s cock. She takes the head first—then more, tongue pressing flat under the vein until her nose hits his belly. She gags once, loud and wet, but keeps pushing. Strings of spit run down his balls, stick to her chin. Eyes water; she blinks, refuses to pull off. Mick grabs a handful of her hair and holds her there, hip cocked, letting her breathe only in short sips. She rocks her head, throat muscles working, swallowing around him every time she sinks. The sound fills the room—sloppy, obscene—and still she doesn’t stop. He gives a short thrust and her eyes roll. Tears streak her cheeks, mascara blurring, yet she just drives forward again, cheeks hollowing, muscles clenching as she milks the length. The next gag hits harder, her throat fluttering. She jerks back an inch, sucking hard, then plunges straight down once more, saliva dripping in long threads to the floor. Mick’s abs flex; he curses, low, rough. Katie’s hand stays braced on his thigh. She isn’t letting go.