Wet. Messy. Deep. My tongue teases, tracing the slick folds, drawing the heat into my mouth, letting it slide over my lips before sucking it back in. My saliva drips, mixing with his arousal, coating every inch as I work him—slowly at first, savoring the stretch, the weight on my tongue, the way his cock twitches in my mouth. I pull back, letting him watch as I swirl my tongue around the sensitive tip, dragging the skin down, exposing the heat beneath before swallowing him whole again—deeper, wetter, needier. His fingers tangle in my hair, fucking my throat as I let it get messier, messier, strings of spit connecting us. He’s close—I feel it, taste it, the way it pulses against my tongue, until it spills, hot and thick, flooding my mouth. I hold it there, rolling it over my tongue before swallowing every drop, licking my lips with a satisfied groan.