Good Tension Release

She felt the heat through his jeans before she laid a hand on it. Tyler leaned over to work her shoulders and that hard line of flesh pressed against the table edge, unmistakable. Ivy slid her palm over it once, twice, felt it twitch and thicken. He didn't pull back. She sat up, hair sliding over bare breasts, and flicked his zipper open like it owed her money. The cock that sprang free was heavy and hot, veins standing out, already glossy at the tip. She wrapped her fingers around the base, gave it one slow stroke that made his abs tighten, then took him in until her lips met her grip. Saliva flooded her tongue. She worked him in deep, messy pulls, cheeks hollowing, spit running down his shaft onto her wrist. Tyler's hand left her back and tangled in her hair, holding her where he wanted. Each wet sound echoed off the walls. Ivy moaned around the head, tongue flicking, throat flexing, eyes watering and still not stopping. His hips started a steady rock into her mouth, chasing the tight heat, pulling her closer every time she swallowed. She never loosened her grip, just took more, faster, like the rest of the room had vanished except for the thick pulse beating against her tongue.