Women Seeking Women #31 - Scene 2

She hit her wall around three in the morning. Another jammed relay bank. So what did she do. She grabbed Malic by the belt, dragged him through three cold corridors until she found the open maintenance platform. Metal deck. Scrap tools. She pressed his spine to the wall so hard he left prints on the welding surface, then went for the cock that was half-hard before the zipper cleared. She sank down and pulled him in, lips sealing tight. Wet heat pulsed around the thick head. A straight couple inches from her eye a red caution strip flickered. They owned that risk together. Every sloppy drag of her mouth drew his hips forward until she swallowed the base, nose grinding low. Spit rolled down his balls in strings and each breath choked wet around flesh. She moved faster, gagged deliberately, took the extra second to let him watch saliva stretch from her chin to the tip before she swallowed again. Malic gripped the back of her skull with one hand and the rack above with the other, knuckles bloodless. The access hatch two levels down slammed somewhere below and the noise ran through him like a live wire. She doubled down, throat squeezing, jaw locked tight, fingers digging the base. Then the heat came sharp and salty, his pulse on her tongue while she kept the suction and the rotation of her fist until he shook. When he started sliding out of his knees she rose, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand like a mechanic finishing a job, and opened a fresh socket wrench.