Dee wets her lips with her tongue and slides my jeans down over my hips, freeing my already aching dick. She wraps her small hand around the base, pumping slowly. “Until you take those photographs of me, and develop them here, I want you to think about this, the next time you’re in this room.”
Still stroking the base, she covers the tip with her lips, sucking gently and flicking it with her tongue.
I lean more weight against the door—my knees going weak. She removes her mouth, peels the foreskin back, and takes me fully in. And I can’t help but moan. “Fuuuck.”
Her mouth is hot, and wet and so tight, bright dots appear in the darkness of my closed lids. Slowly she increases the suction of her mouth, the speed of her rubbing palm—my hand buries in her hair and tightens.
Dee hums around me, and I beg, “Faster . . .”