( that curve of her lips, the flash of her teeth in a grin that's so utterly pleased with herself, with the state that she's left him in, would be enough to get him riled up on a normal night. but this isn't a normal night, passed that point the moment that notification popped up on his phone screen.
he can't do what he'd normally do in that situation and turn the tables right back on her, wipe that smirky grin off of her face with a move to flip her beneath him instead, with his fingers inside of her, with a tongue on her swollen clit. he'd had his moment of sheer control earlier, let his sheer instincts loose on her, palm against bare skin, and now it seems as though isabelle has decided to have her turn, make it so he writhes beneath her mouth just as she had squirmed on top of his lap.
she's succeeding, that much is for sure. there's already precome leaking from his head before he can even realize what's happening, slicked down along his shaft by velvet lips, the flat of her tongue, a tantalizing taste of what's to come. ) God damn, baby, ( comes his groan, chin tipped back and his hips flexing as her curled fist strokes him at long last.
every nerve ending in rene's body is alight, oversensitive almost to a fault, but he doesn't care — he wants, needs more. a hand reaches forward, fingers carding through her hair and against her scalp, grip tightening as her own nails graze beneath his navel. half-lidded eyes peer down as her, tug messy hair out of his line of vision, so he can watch the way her tongue languishes around his width, savors the taste for a moment until she decides to indulge him at long last; her mouth's warm and hot, hollowed cheeks concaving against the head of his cock as her palm strokes upwards and —
she takes his length fully, leans her head down so those ruby lips can chase the curl of her fingers as she sinks down over him, a moan carried past his lips. isabelle feels so fucking good, is so good at this, it's unreal — he can't help but let out the steady stream of words flow out of him, feeling kinda nonsensical: ) Mamí — Isabelle — dios, baby, you feel so fucking good — Me estás volviendo loco —
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he can't do what he'd normally do in that situation and turn the tables right back on her, wipe that smirky grin off of her face with a move to flip her beneath him instead, with his fingers inside of her, with a tongue on her swollen clit. he'd had his moment of sheer control earlier, let his sheer instincts loose on her, palm against bare skin, and now it seems as though isabelle has decided to have her turn, make it so he writhes beneath her mouth just as she had squirmed on top of his lap.
she's succeeding, that much is for sure. there's already precome leaking from his head before he can even realize what's happening, slicked down along his shaft by velvet lips, the flat of her tongue, a tantalizing taste of what's to come. ) God damn, baby, ( comes his groan, chin tipped back and his hips flexing as her curled fist strokes him at long last.
every nerve ending in rene's body is alight, oversensitive almost to a fault, but he doesn't care — he wants, needs more. a hand reaches forward, fingers carding through her hair and against her scalp, grip tightening as her own nails graze beneath his navel. half-lidded eyes peer down as her, tug messy hair out of his line of vision, so he can watch the way her tongue languishes around his width, savors the taste for a moment until she decides to indulge him at long last; her mouth's warm and hot, hollowed cheeks concaving against the head of his cock as her palm strokes upwards and —
she takes his length fully, leans her head down so those ruby lips can chase the curl of her fingers as she sinks down over him, a moan carried past his lips. isabelle feels so fucking good, is so good at this, it's unreal — he can't help but let out the steady stream of words flow out of him, feeling kinda nonsensical: ) Mamí — Isabelle — dios, baby, you feel so fucking good — Me estás volviendo loco —