Facesitting Tales #03, Scene #02

The door slammed. Austin Taylor stood there in heels and nothing else, blonde hair spilling down her back like champagne. Jack stepped inside, still reeking of prison concrete. He’d taken the fall she handed him—robbery she orchestrated—and now here he was, on the run again, a loose end she planned to pull tighter. She smirked. Her eyes were cold glitter. Before he could speak, she grabbed his collar, shoved him down, and planted that fat ass over his mouth. Her thighs locked around his skull like a vise. Every breath she took pressed his face deeper into the warm crease. She ground slow, deliberate circles, smearing him in heat and scent until his tongue worked on instinct. When she was satisfied he’d surrendered, she eased back just enough to lift one pedicured foot to his lips. "Clean," she ordered. He obeyed, sucking each toe, tongue tracing every curve. She shifted again, spread herself open, and pushed that tight, pink ring against his mouth. "Deeper," she snapped. His tongue slid inside, obedient, frantic. Only then did she reach down, wrap slick fingers around his cock, and stroke him hard and fast until ropes of cum painted his stomach while she laughed softly in the dark.