Friday night sofa snuggles


So it’s Friday night, we’re staying in, snuggled on the sofa, me with my head on Master C‘s lap, watching whatever shite is in the TV.

A couple of glasses of wine consumed and I’m feeling a little bit naughty.

I trace the outline of Master C‘s cock through His jeans. He playfully bats my hand away. I try again. His cock is harder now, the outline more defined. Again Master C moves my hand away; this time it’s even less convincing than last.

I try again. I feel His cock stiffen further. Master C wriggles a bit and He rests His hand on my head, his fingers playing with my hair.

I unzip His jeans and slide my fingers inside. His cock, still encased in his boxers, twitches in response to my touches. Master C moans slightly as I slip my fingers inside His shorts. His fingers twist in my hair as I idly stroke His shaft, feeling it stiffen and twitch.

Master C murmurs softly as I tease the head with my fingers, feeling it swell.

I remove my hand and unbuckle His belt, unbuttoned His jeans and release His cock from its confinement. A bead of pre-cum oozes from the slit. Master C shudders as lick it away with my tongue.

I kiss the tip and swirl my tongue head. On the TV a klaxon sounds; someone has got something obviously wrong on QI again. I take this as a sign and wrap my lips around the head. Master C moans more loudly and His fingers tighten even more firmly in my hair.

I slide my lips leisurely up and down His shaft, pausing at the top to tease the head. Occasionally I let my teeth drag lightly along His skin, making Him flinch.

As I suck and lick, His hips begin to move, driving His cock deeper into my mouth. His hand exerts a pressure on my head, pushing me harder on to Him.

I cup Master C‘s balls, squeezing them as the head of His cock lodges in the back of my throat. His breathing deepens as the jerking of His hips becomes more pronounced.

His cock twitches with increasing frequency. The flavour of His pre-cum grows stronger. His balls swell in my hand.

I can feel the tension in Him build. His moans become deeper, more prolonged. Master C‘s cock stabs my mouth with short, stabbing thrusts.

His fingers tighten in my hair. Once… Twice… Three times… His sign, telling me that He is on the brink.

I slide my mouth back, wrapping my lips tightly around Him, only the head of His wonderful, throbbing cock in my mouth. I encircle Master C‘s shaft with my fingers, stroking Him as I suck.

A moan, a spasmodic jerk and Master C‘s cock erupts. My mouth fills with cum; rich, warm and salty. I savour the taste before swallowing it down. His torrent slows to a trickle; the last drops pool on my tongue.

His cock subsides, His breathing returns to normal, His hand releases my hair and rests lightly on my head as He tells me I am His “Good Girl”.

As I tuck Master C away, the weather forecast says it’s going to be miserable. All the more reason for us to stay in bed…

The Oral Sex Project
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Suck whenever you want…


So, apparently, once again, it is “Steak & Blow-Job Day”. It’s not really a concept I understand. Master C and I are both foodies, and steak is a fairly regular meal in our house. Not always beef; sometimes venison, but not uncommon.

Also, it probably comes as a surprise to no one, but blow-jobs are not exactly a rarity in our house either. In an average week, I will generally find myself with Master C’s cock in my mouth three or four times, at least. I think I may have mentioned it before, but I love sucking cock; Master C’s cock especially, but pretty much any cock attached to a guy that I find attractive will do.

Assuming however, that for the purposes of this post, I restrict myself purely to the sucking of Master C’s cock (and if I ever had to restrict myself to just one cock, His would definitely be the one I would restrict myself to), then quite clearly, Steak & Blow-Job Day, far from being an annual special occasion, is actually a fairly regular occurrence; essentially any day that I give Master C a blow-job (which could be any day at all) that coincides with one or other of us cooking steak.

Leaving aside the frankly ludicrous notion of only eating a particular cut of meat once a year (seriously?!), the ideal that I would deny myself the pleasure of something that I absolutely love doing, that being sucking Master C’s cock, so that it could become some sort of “special treat” for Him is simply ridiculous. Why would I do that? Why would I deprive Him and, more to the point, me of something that we both enjoy?

Now, I know the whole thing is really a joke but, either you like sucking cock or you don’t.  If you don’t, why should you have to make yourself do it just to please a guy? Similarly, if you do, just get on with it and suck His cock, regardless of what day it is. If steak just happens to also be on the menu, then so be it.

x-Box Challenge


So, with the game installed and running on the x-Box, Master C settled back on the sofa, and I took my position kneeling between His legs. The challenge was set. My task, should I choose to accept it, was to suck Master C off as He played. The stakes, a spanking of 6 slaps for each goal He scored before He came.

To be fair, I wasn’t quite sure how to play this one; as much as I love sucking Master C’s cock, I do enjoy a good spanking.

I needed have worried; 30 seconds later, I was already a goal down. The game briefly paused, the slaps duly delivered, 3 to each cheek, and we were off again.

I returned to my task, my determination renewed. As Master C squirmed on the sofa, as much in response to the action on the screen , as to the action going on between His legs, I purposefully set about my task.

Despite a prolonged period of possession on my part, Master C scored again. Once again, my stride was broken as my punishment was duly delivered and sportingly accepted.

From then, I was content to try a holding action, but on the stroke of half-time, Master C netted His third. This time, on account of my sloppy defending,  the slaps were delivered with the paddle rather than His hand and my eyes were beginning to sting as much as my arse cheeks.

The second half got underway with a sustained period of possession and pressure from me. I could tell Master C was finding it harder to concentrate, and that wasn’t the only thing getting harder.

I pressed home my advantage. I could almost taste a breakthrough, but then, from nowhere, Master C slipped past my defence and found the net for a fourth time.

SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!

Beaten but not defeated, I started again. Master C was clearly showing the strain as I threw everything at Him, but still He held on. His movement was becoming less controlled. He was clearly struggling to maintain possession and then, finally, I broke through his defences.

His cum flooded my mouth. Thick, hot strings pooled on my tongue as His cock twitched and jerked in my mouth.

Somehow, miraculously, even as Master C scored in my mouth, He managed another goal. The final act of the match would result in me getting my arse tanned for a fifth time; but as I swallowed his load down and braced myself for His lap of honour on my arse, I decided that, on balance, it had been a fair result.

The Oral Sex Project

Coffee and cream


I bring a coffee through from the kitchen and set it down on the small table beside the sofa. “Does Sir’s cock require sucking?” I ask.

It’s a silly question really, I already know the answer. Just because I’m a cock-hungry little slut however, doesn’t mean I don’t observe the little niceties.

Master C nods and smiles. His hands move to undo his jeans.

I push them away. “No, let me,” I say as I kneel between his legs, “just sit back and enjoy.”

I unzip his jeans and reach inside. His cock is delightfully hard and it twitches in response to my touch.

I ease it from its confinement and pause to appreciate it. Long, thick, hard, with an oh so familiar pattern of veins. I stroke it gently. “I love your cock,” I say, and it’s true; those lovely inches of hardness have given me so much pleasure in our time together.

I kiss the tip. I work my lips around the head. I kiss my way down His shaft before licking it all over. I look up, catch His eye and smile before slowly taking Him into my mouth.

Master C moans; a long, deep moan that tells me more than words how much He enjoys the attention of my mouth.

Slowly, I slide my lips down, taking Him deep into my mouth, inch by marvellous inch until I bury my nose in His short clipped pubic hair. I swallow with the head lodged in the back of my throat and I am rewarded with another groan.

I start to move my head up and down, keeping a steady suction as my lips travel up and down the length of Master C‘s cock. I reach the top, I swirl my tongue around the head before working my way down to the base again.

I love the way the head of His cock moves against the roof of my mouth and presses into my throat. I love the way the thick vein on the underside feels against my tongue. I love the way His cock twitches and throbs inside my mouth. Above all, I love the noises and the involuntary movements Master C makes as my mouth works its magic and the sensations take over.

I build up the speed of my movement. I feel a hand rest on the back of my head; passive for know, but I know that will change.

His fingers begin to twine in my hair, His hips begin to rock; imperceptibly at first but becoming increasingly pronounced.

I suck harder. Master C begins to push my head down as the thrusting of His hips drives His cock into my mouth. I choke a little as I adjust to His increasingly urgent participation.

Both hands now hold my head. He begins to fuck my mouth; stabbing his cock between my lips.

His moans become louder, but more irregular. The first beads of pre-cum leak on to my tongue.

“Suck… It…Morag… Suck… It… You… Slut!” Master C gasps; each word punctuated by a jubbing thrust, “Suck… My… Fucking… Cock!”

His fingers tighten their grip on my hair. He pulls my head down, forcing me to take every inch of Him. I gasp and splutter, choking around the swollen head as Master C drives it forcefully  into the depths my throat.

He is beyond control. He fucks my mouth as roughly as He would fuck my cunt or arse. My jaw aches as Master C pounds me.

“Get… Ready… Morag… Get… Ready… To… Drink… My… Cum… You… Slut!”

I can feel the tension in His thighs. Master C pulls His cock back until only the head, swollen and angry remains in my mouth.

“Suck it Morag! Oh suck it, my sweet little, cum-hungry slut!”

I suck hard, tonguing the slit at the tip.

“Yes! Oh fuck, Yes! Yes! Oh Morag, YES!” Master C roars as He erupts.

I swallow hard. His hot cum stings the back of my throat. Again and again, jet after lovely, rich, thick jet, His cum fills my mouth. After the initial deluge I let it pool on my toungue, savouring its flavour and texture before sending it on its way.

Finally, I let His cock slip from between my lips. I sit back, look up at Him and smile. In a voice made hoarse from the punishment my throat has received, and at the risk of a spanking I cheekily say, “Don’t forget your coffee, dear.”

  The Oral Sex Project

Give and take – Oral sex


When done right, oral sex is bloody amazing. I like to receive and I like to give. Being bisexual is an added bonus because I am every bit as happy when I am feasting on another woman’s cunt as I am when a man has his cock in my mouth.

Cunnilingus:
I love cunnilingus. And, in all honesty, I love performing it almost as much as I love having it performed on me. Cunnilingus, in my opinion, can make the difference between OK sex and absolutely fucking amazing sex. And here’s a little factoid for you; men can be every bit as good at it as us women.

Most men can fuck with an adequate level of proficiency, and some of us women are fortunate that we can cum simply through being fucked. Let’s be honest though, penises are pretty good at doing what they are designed to do; the fit nicely inside those bits of us that can accommodate them, they feel good when they are used with a certain proficiency, but they are not the most flexible of organs (especially when in fucking mode). Mouths, lips and tongues however, we’ll that is a whole other matter.

For me, as with almost everything sex related, the build up is just as important as the act itself. I can be driven wild by those teasing kisses to the insides of my thighs; those touches that get tantalisingly close before pulling away. For anyone going down on me, getting that bit right will pretty much have me eating out of your hand.

When his (or her) tongue finally slips between my labia, I want my partner to feast on me, to enjoy it, to luxuriate in it. Good cunnilingus doesn’t need to be a marathon, but it should (almost) never be a sprint. To keep with the sporting metaphor, think of it like a 10k, or at the very least a 5k. In some instances, I’ll even be content with the 1,500m, but I am almost certainly not going to get there if you’re going to do the equivalent of trying to beat Ussain Bolt (now that’s a whole other fantasy in itself).

When someone is going down on me, ideally I want them to be concentrating on nothing else. It’s not some precursor to the main event, it’s as much an event in its own right as intercourse is and; sometimes, for some of us girls, it can actually be our favourite event.

Don’t get me wrong, I love fucking, and I love being fucked, but being expertly eaten out can take me to a completely different levels.

So, and this may be a gross generalisation, if you want to give a girl an amazing sexual experience, learn to (tr)eat her properly.

Fellatio:
The flip-side of this is that I am, quite unashamedly, a cocksucker. I’ve been sucking cocks for over twenty years, and I actually shudder to think about how many penises have been in my mouth during that time. I’m not avoiding the actual number because I’m ashamed of it in any way, I genuinely can’t remember how many different cocks I have sucked. I know for a fact that I’ve sucked more guys off than I have actually fucked, but that’s as much as I can tell you.

I truly love the feeling of having a cock in my mouth. Despite being utterly submissive, I love the control it gives me over the guy whose cock I am sucking. I love the way it drives him wild. I love the way that my lips and tongue makes him lose control. I love the feelings of those final few seconds before he cums when his cock swells and twitches in his mouth. Most of all, I love it when he erupts and floods my mouth with his hot, thick load.

Since the very first blow-job I ever have, I have been a swallower. For me, that rich, warm mouthful of male essence is my reward for my efforts. It’s not my favourite flavour, I will freely admit, although if he takes care of his diet and doesn’t smoke it can be not too unpleasant, but I love the feeling of it in my mouth. I love its heat, I love its texture, I love the feeling of it sliding down my throat.

Of course, not all blow-jobs end this way. Sometimes they are simply a preliminary part of the proceedings. Even when I do make him cum, sometimes his load ends up over me and not inside me. While I love the feeling of a man’s cum in my skin, and I certainly have no objection to wherever a man decides to unload, the greatest compliment to my cock-sucking skills that any man can pay me is when he gives me a lovely mouthful of thick, warm, rich cum to savour before I swallow it hungrily down.

So, ultimately, what does all this tell you about me? Give or receive, lick or suck, this greedy little slut is definitely down for oral.

 

For the love of cock


I love cock. Since my very first encounter with the male organ over 20 years ago, I have been endlessly fascinated by them. The come in all shapes and sizes and, big ones, smaller ones, thick ones, thin ones, I’ve pretty much had them all and loved every one of them.

There is something endlessly fascinating, almost hypnotic about watching those few inches of man unfurling themselves from a slightly comical, soft, wrinkled, flaccid state; transforming into a proud, hard, raging erection that will give me so much pleasure. A hard-on is, I believe, the most primal compliment a man can pay a woman, and the knowledge that you are responsible for this amazing metamorphosis is greatly flattering.

Of course, the cock isn’t everything. The man maketh the cock and, usually, it is the man I see first, not the cock. There is always a thrill of anticipation the first time you “unwrap” a new cock; that moment when the suggestion, the bulge in his jeans, becomes the reality of a living cock, released for you to enjoy, to explore with your fingers and lips, before it pushes inside you.

It’s fair to say, I’ve never encountered a disappointing cock, although I have been disappointed by the way a cock has been used. I won’t lie, I prefer my cocks to be on the bigger, by which I mean thicker rather than longer, side but I’ll take a smaller cock coupled with the ability to use it over a larger one attached to a guy who is an even bigger one. Ability, not size, is key. Size with ability is a very nice bonus.

The thing with cocks is the way they feel and make me feel. Much as I love the appearance of a lovely hard cock, it’s the way it feels when it is inside me that makes them so great. The way the head fills my mouth when I’m sucking it, the way the shaft fills and stretches my cunt or arse as it plunges deep inside me; these are the things that I love most about cocks.

And then there is the rich, thick eruption of his climax. I absolutely love watching a guy cum. The way the shaft stiffens and twitches, the way his balls contract, the way the head swells and turns a deep, angry purple, and then it erupts. That moment when he can take no more, at his most vulnerable and knowing that you are the cause of it is one of the most erotically satisfying experience.

I realise that this post has nothing at all to do with the prompt subject of “Chemistry”, but from start to finish, in everything they do, I love cock.

Blow-jobs and throat-fucks


To the uninitiated, giving a guy a blow-job and having a guy fuck your throat may seem to be pretty much the same thing. I can assure you that, to me at least, they are very different indeed. While both involve my mouth and his cock, and both usually involve me swallowing, or wearing, a load of cum, that is where the similarities end.

First there is the perspective of who is doing what and to whom.

When I’m going down on  Master C, sucking His cock, giving Him a blow-job, it is something that I am doing to and for Him. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy it, because I do, but a lot of my pleasure derives from how much pleasure I am giving Master C. Granted, as His climax approaches, Master C may grab my head, force His lovely thick cock into my mouth, fuck my face, as it were, but it is still essentially as a result of my actions; I have actively caused Him to lose control and I will be rewarded for my efforts with a nice thick load of cum in my mouth.

When Master C fucks my throat, however, it is very much something that He is doing to me. In this sense, my mouth is simply a hole to receive His cock as Master C fucks my throat the same way He would fuck my cunt or my arse. When He tilts my head back over the edge of the bed, or over the arm of the sofa and forces His cock as far down my throat as it will go, I am very much the one on the receiving end and Master C is using me entirely for his own purposes.

A blow-job as me actively giving Master C something, using my mouth to show Him how much I want/love Him. A throat-fuck is much more submissive on my part; Master C is the one using my mouth, He is the one in control.

In the same way, that when I suck His cock, Master C is trusting me to keep my teeth out of the way, when He fucks my throat, I am trusting Him not to go too far, not to hurt me too much.

Now, which I want depends on my mood; which I receive, depends on His. When I’m giving Master C a blow-job, I get to savour His cum in my mouth before swallowing it down; when Master C is fucking my throat, His cum is shot directly down my throat, often bypassing my tastebuds.

A good blow-job gives me a warm feeling of control. It is a sensual pleasure, where I use my skills to bring Master C to climax.

A good throat-fucking will leave my throat raw, my jaw aching, tears streaming from my eyes and a delicious feeling of having been used.

I wonder which I’ll be doing/getting tonight?

#Masturbation Monday The Oral Sex Project

Changing room fantasy


This year’s 6 Nations tournament is just around the corner. I have a bit of a thing for rugby players; those big, tall, strapping, muscle-bound guys who play hard and tough and get themselves dirty. Given that, I guess it was almost inevitable that at least one of my men, namely “The Other Guy” would be one.

Now, I have a bit of a recurring fantasy that has me servicing “The Other Guy” and his team-mates after a game; either in celebration or as a consolation,  I’m never entirely sure, but I guess it doesn’t matter.

It starts with me being smuggled into the team’s changing room during the closing stages of the game. “The Other Guy” orders me to strip, then blindfolds me before tying my hands to the bench so that I can’t escape (not that I would want to).  He leaves to rejoin those players on the bench, and I am left alone, naked, blindfolded and in the dark, just waiting for what is to come.

I can hear a clock tick. As each second passes, my anticipation builds.  My cunt grows wet. I squirm on the uncomfortable slatted wooden bench below me.  Each tick of the clock is an increasing agony of arousal.

Finally I can hear voices approaching. I freeze as the door squeaks open.

“Fucking hell guys! What’ve we got here? Come and take a look at this!” I hear someone call out.

I sense the room fill with strong male bodies.  The air is filled with appreciative whistles and suggestive comments. A coarse hand cups my cunt, a thick finger parts my lower lips, feeling how wet I am.  “This little slut’s gagging for it guys!”

My restraints are untied and I’m led to treatment table in the middle of the room. Hands grope me, squeezing and mauling my boobs, my arse; fingers invade my cunt.

What follows is almost indescribable. Cocks are thrust in my mouth, plunged deep into my cunt, rammed in my arse. I’m spit-roasted, DPed, made airtight as the guys all take it in turns to make use of my holes.

The fact that I can’t see who is doing what to me, I have no way of knowing what is going to happen next adds to the naughtiness of the situation. I am completely at the mercy of “The Other Guy” and his team-mates. They could (and do) do whatever they like to me. I am nothing but a slut to be used and demeaned by them, and I love every second, every grope, every flick of a tongue, every thrust of a cock. It is just be being used by an unseen, unknown number of men and I am in my element as they use me.

By common consent they agree not to cum inside me. Instead load after load of hot sticky cum is shot over me; coating my buttocks, my back, my boobs, my face.  Occasionally someone shoots a load in my mouth and I swallow it down hungrily.

At some point I hear a couple of the guys encouraging a team-mate. “C’mon Davy,” they urge, “We know you’re gay but just pretend she’s a guy with boobs and fuck her up the arse.” Whether he does or not, I’ll never know but the next cock to fill my battered and sore arsehole feels thicker and longer than some of those that had proceeded it and in my mind it’s Davy fucking me, pretending I’m a guy, fucking my arse the same way he would his boyfriend’s.

The abuse goes on for what seems like an eternity. Cock after lovely thick, hard cock fills me. Load upon rich, sticky load is dumped over me. My jaw aches, my cunt is tender, my arse is raw, my boobs feel bruised from the groping and squeezing.

Slowly, one by one, they shower and dress and leave, leaving me cum-drenched, sore but intensely satisfied.

I feel a hand undo my blindfold. It pulls the cum drenched material that has become stuck to my face away.  I look around.  There’s no one left but “The Other Guy” and me.  He smiles at me as he pumps his cock in front of my face. “I hope you’ve had fun, you filthy little slut!” he says as his cock erupts, spewing a final load other my face before making his way to the shower.

As he returns, I find the energy to stand.  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he demands as I head towards the showers.

“Can’t I…?”

“No!”

He throws my coat at me. “Cover yourself up slut!” he demands.

I do as I’m bid.  My coat barely reaches below my cunt. I feel exposed, demeaned, degraded.  I love it.

I clean my face up and straighten my hair as much as is possible with my fingers, before he grips my elbow and leads me from the changing room to the club bar.

As I stand at the bar, sipping my drink, my arse barely covered by my coat, the eyes of all the guys who fucked me, and those of the opposing team are upon me.

I flush when I hear myself being discussed.

“She’s a total slut!”

“She took three cocks at once.”

“I had her in every hole.”

“The little slut loved every second.”

And the truth is, I did. Every filthy fucking second on it.

The first submission


It was a ceremony of sorts; a symbol of trust and acceptance. A sign of my submission to Him.

As He sat, I stood before him, eyes downcast. Slowly I undressed, the removal of each item an acceptance of His claim over me.

Finally I stood, naked, offering myself to Him. Presenting myself to His scrutiny. He told me to turn around. I complied, letting Him study me, showing him the prize that was his.

“Kneel!” Master C demanded, ” You know what to do.”

I did as I was bid. I unbuckled His belt, unbuttoned and unzipped His jeans, reached inside His boxers and released His cock from its confinement.

I took His cock in my mouth, paying homage to it with my lips and tongue. I was determined to show Master C how diligent I could be in the performance of my duties. My mouth’s purpose was to please Him and I yearned to do my best.

As my service to Him brought Him to the point of no return, He pushed me from him. “Have I displeased you?” I asked.

“No, not at all,” Master C replied, “I intend to mark you.”

He stroked his cock, His hand almost a blur. “I am claiming you, Morag,” he groaned, “I am marking you as mine. From this moment on, you are MY slut.”

His cock errupted. His cum sprayed over my face, it trickled down my neck, dribbling on to my boobs.

“Give me Your belt,” I asked in a small voice, His cum drying on my skin. He gave me an enquiring look. “Pass me Your belt Sir, it’s important,” I urged.

Master C slipped His belt from its stays and passed it to me. I accepted it and adopted a position of supplication, on my knees, my head bowed, my hands raised with His belt draped over them.

“I submit to You,” I said, “I submit to You and accept Your domination. I offer You this belt to use for my instruction and correction. I will accept Your discipline as You see fit to dispense it.”

Master C took the belt from my hands. I turned around as He folded it and cracked it sharply together.

I waited. The anticipation built. I heard the belt swish through the air. With a resounding smack, His leather kissed my arse. He became my  Master and He made me His…

The unintended blow-job


Yes, I know what you’re thinking, how the fuck (or possibly suck) can you give someone a blow-job unintentionally? Was I or was I not an active participant in the fellating of Master C? Well, yes, of course, but I hadn’t actually been intending to suck his cock.

What with an unfortunate combination of having  PMT, a cold, and the inevitable post-festive return to work January blues I’ve been feeling about as sexy as being stuck in rush hour traffic on the M74. Sometimes, however, when I’m presented with Master C’s cock, I can’t help myself.

I should explain that, for once, it wasn’t that Master C intentionally stuck His cock in my face, so to speak. He’d had a shower after training and had thrown on a bathrobe and collapsed on the sofa. At some point during the evening, a change in position had caused His robe to open a bit.

Now, I’ve always had a fascination with the way a penis can go from being small and shriveled and inoffensive, to being hard and full and angry. I find it strangely hypnotic. Seeing Master C‘s cock peeping out, all relaxed and yet strangely appealing, was, despite my lack of obvious libido, too much of a temptation.

A single light touch of my fingers made it twitch, a few more made it begin to grow. Gentle touches, light teasing caused Master C’s cock to stiffen and swell. Without really being aware of what I was doing, I stroked and teased Him into a state of full hardeness. There was nothing inoffensive about His cock now; Master C was rock hard, the head was swollen and purple.

Having been responsible for getting Master C into this state, I really had to do something about it.

I took Him in my mouth and gave Him a leisurely suck, taking the head  into the the back of my throat and stroking His shaft and teasing his balls  with my fingers.

I was in no rush and took my time, enjoying the texture and contours of His cock as I worked my lips up and down every delicious inch.

In the end, a grunt and a groan and a tightening of His fingers in my hair was all the warning Master C gave me before filling my mouth with cum.

I hadn’t intended to suck Master C off last night as we snuggled on the sofa watching the telly, but the force and power of His climax, rewarding me for my efforts, made me so glad I had.
The Oral Sex Project