Every Inch

Sophia slid into the pink lace like she owned it. The second Mick sat down she climbed him, knees on either side of his spread thighs. She dragged the thin strip of her panties across his zipper and felt him already hard. One yank and his cock sprang free, thick, flushed. She gave the head one slow lick, eyes up, daring him. Then she swallowed him in one drop of the head and neck, lips sealing around the shaft, throat opening like she had nothing to lose. Mick’s hand locked on the back of her skull, forcing her down until the little choking sounds came and her mascara started to run. She gagged, pulled up just enough to breathe, then shoved herself back down, nose to skin, spit dripping down his balls. Every bob of her head turned sloppy, wet, the pink lingerie slipping off one shoulder. Mick’s hips started bucking up to meet her, keeping the rhythm rough. He didn’t ease off, and she didn’t want him to. She looked wrecked, desperate, obscene, and she kept her mouth locked tight around every inch he gave her.