Summer Gets Sloppy

Summer Col slips into that lingerie like she's begging to be touched. Her body curves into every edge—tight, slick, and on display. She turns slow, making sure Apollo sees every inch. The air tightens between them. He shifts. She knows exactly what she's doing. Then she's on him, mouth wet and filthy, tongue dragging, spit running down her chin like she needs it more than air. Every sound is thick and nasty. She doesn't hold back, jaw aching, drool shining on her lips, mascara starting to run. He groans through his teeth. She smiles around him and keeps going like she wants him wrecked.