Deeper The Better For Sahara

Sahara Skye kneels in that leopard corset, tits pushed up, spit already gleaming at the corners of her mouth. Mick Blue has a fistful of her hair and he’s feeding her every inch, slow and deliberate. She opens wide, no hesitation, letting the head slide past her tongue until her throat tightens and she gags—deep, wet, messy. He pushes deeper. Her eyes tear, mascara tracking down one cheek, but her lips stay sealed around him. Another thrust, harder. She chokes again, spit spilling down his shaft in thick ropes that drip onto her cleavage. She doesn’t pull back. She leans in, swallowing around him, throat working, nostrils flaring, that hungry little noise in the back of her throat turning into a raw, rhythmic gag every time his cock punches past her limit.