They Wanna See It All

Tommy peeled off his clothes with Sandy's hands right there to help. She stroked lube over his thick, uncut cock until it stood heavy and ready. She pushed her face into his pits, breathing deep, then dropped lower to tongue his feet—socks first, skin next—sucking each toe until spit ran down. She hauled his legs over her shoulders and went at his hole. Spread-eagle first, then the trombone on her knees, then Tommy sitting back on her mouth and grinding. They swapped spit for pleasure: Sandy choking on him until strings of drool hung from her chin, Tommy burying his tongue between her thighs, then more throat from her. When he pushed inside it was all angles and force—amazon, both ways of the piledriver, doggy, her knees to her ears—until he yanked free and painted her face white. Later the shower water washed the rest of the night away.