Lips It was a favorite view, for him. Maybe not his absolute favorite — doubled over, hips high, everything spread and eagerly waiting — but if not, it was a very close second. She was on her knees. He watched her lips part slightly, her tongue gently bathing his hard shaft, her lips closing softly, her cheeks puffing. She raised her eyes for a moment, saw his satisfaction, and went back to her task. He closed his eyes a moment, put his head back, and growled; then looked down at her again, so focused on him. He watched the top of her head, the back-and-forth movement, the deliberate up-stroke and stop, down-stroke and stop, repeat.

For her, it was a favorite view: his cock between her lips, under her tongue, in her mouth. She turned her head and looked up, forcing him into her cheek; she couldn’t smile, of course, but hoped that her eyes showed her delight and her passion, her desire to please him and her devotion to this particular pleasure. Because for her it was pure pleasure, pleasing him this way: tasting him, feeling his slick pre-cum on her lower lip as he entered, feeling him grow harder under her tongue, her expert ministrations. Feeling his growl, his hands on her head, pushing her where HE wanted her. For a brief moment she considered resisting, pushing back where she wanted him, but thought better of it. She closed her eyes and reveled in the moment.

She felt him withdraw, felt his fingers roughly part her labia, felt him enter her and roll around, collecting her own juices. Then she felt his cock again, pushing her lips apart; she inhaled deeply to catch her own scent, right there, right under her nose. She licked, tasted, the sweet-salty tang of her own pussy mixed with his musk was almost too much for her and she clutched herself. He grabbed her arm, pushing it down, letting her fingers invade her below while he still filled her above. She knew she had to time this right. It wouldn’t do to make a mess.

He growled again, his hands and fingers digging into her scalp, directing, telegraphing to her how close he was. She was close herself, her one hand cupping his balls while her other pushed into herself, spread her nectar, stroked her throbbing clit. She thought about how his fingers reached her G-spot, closed her lips tightly, felt him explode into her mouth and throat, and felt herself beginning to fall too.

Her orgasm engulfed her, engulfed them both. He scooped his finger in her slit, tasted, nodded his approval.

“Well done,” he said. “Can’t wait for the encore."