She rocked her hips forward slowly, inches at a time, her thumb resting at the corner of Neal's mouth to feel the slick rubber slide past his lips.
He'd never asked her why do you like this, never questioned her pleasure or requests, never treated her cock differently than he treated Peter's. The sound of spit and suction was just as loud for her, the urgent action of his tongue and throat was just as honest, just as focused.
"Touch yourself," she ordered, pressing harder. The base of the strap-on ground against her clit, barely enough pressure. The visual impact more than made up for the uneven give-and-take of teasing pleasure.
Neal gagged as he took more of her, his hands fumbling with the zipper of his slacks, his eyes closed. She moved her thumb from the stretched skin of his lips and dragged it over his eyelids, his long lashes, the flushed skin of his cheekbones. Then she slid it in Neal's mouth alongside her cock. His tongue flickered against it, slipping over her thumbnail, brushing the pad of her thumb before returning to her cock.
When his left hand squeezed tight on her thigh she knew he was close. So she pressed in as far as she could, until Neal was gasping and choking and her clit was throbbing. She guided his shaking hand between her legs, slicked his fingers in her juices, and moaned as she came. Neal jerked in front of her, his hips thrusting up into the air. She wrapped her hands in his hair and kept him pulled tight to her groin, finishing her orgasm as she watched him suffer through his own.
"That was nice," she murmured, as she let him fall back onto his heels.
"Yes ma'am," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.
She unbuckled her strap-on and handed it to him. He untangled the straps, cleaned the dildo in the bathroom, and put it away in the bottom drawer of his dresser. "Now come to bed." He slid under the covers in front of her and she pressed her hips against his ass, the last sparks of pleasure firing erratically through her body.
Neal sucks El's strap-on
She rocked her hips forward slowly, inches at a time, her thumb resting at the corner of Neal's mouth to feel the slick rubber slide past his lips.
He'd never asked her why do you like this, never questioned her pleasure or requests, never treated her cock differently than he treated Peter's. The sound of spit and suction was just as loud for her, the urgent action of his tongue and throat was just as honest, just as focused.
"Touch yourself," she ordered, pressing harder. The base of the strap-on ground against her clit, barely enough pressure. The visual impact more than made up for the uneven give-and-take of teasing pleasure.
Neal gagged as he took more of her, his hands fumbling with the zipper of his slacks, his eyes closed. She moved her thumb from the stretched skin of his lips and dragged it over his eyelids, his long lashes, the flushed skin of his cheekbones. Then she slid it in Neal's mouth alongside her cock. His tongue flickered against it, slipping over her thumbnail, brushing the pad of her thumb before returning to her cock.
When his left hand squeezed tight on her thigh she knew he was close. So she pressed in as far as she could, until Neal was gasping and choking and her clit was throbbing. She guided his shaking hand between her legs, slicked his fingers in her juices, and moaned as she came. Neal jerked in front of her, his hips thrusting up into the air. She wrapped her hands in his hair and kept him pulled tight to her groin, finishing her orgasm as she watched him suffer through his own.
"That was nice," she murmured, as she let him fall back onto his heels.
"Yes ma'am," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.
She unbuckled her strap-on and handed it to him. He untangled the straps, cleaned the dildo in the bathroom, and put it away in the bottom drawer of his dresser. "Now come to bed." He slid under the covers in front of her and she pressed her hips against his ass, the last sparks of pleasure firing erratically through her body.