mouth open, leg shaking.
“Andrew—fuck—” I whimper,
the fast climbing heat surprising me.
His hand tightens around my thigh,
the other cradles the middle,
fingers drifting
down between my cheeks,
thumb brushing over my opening.
Another drag of his tongue.
This time harder, deeper,
the friction hitting my clit.
The vibrations of his moans
shake in my veins.
I slap the brick wall,
searching for something to hold.
His mouth is a mess.
His chest, gone wild.
His hands won’t stop shaking.
As if he told himself to go slow,
but his body’s not listening.
“Swear t’God—gonna fuckin’ come just from my mouth on you.”
His words crash hot against my clit.
My fingers wrap the back of his neck.
My spine scrapes down the brick.
Then his tongue hits so deep
it slips under the seam,
a soft velvet drag
through the slickest part of me.
He groans into my pussy,
burying his face deeper,
