Knees on the couch, hands gripping the backrest. She starts slow—tongue swirling, lips sealed tight. Then she takes it deeper, jaw unhinged, throat flexing with every swallow. He grips her hair, pulls her down until her nose presses flush. She gags, pulls back just enough to gasp, then dives right back down. After a few minutes of that, he flips her onto her back, spreads her legs wide, and slams in balls-deep. She locks her ankles behind his back, hips rolling in short, desperate circles. Every thrust pushes her closer to the edge. When she comes, her whole body tenses, fingers clawing at the cushions.
