ssweetleaf Answer:
SMUT below
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Steve’s mouth was eager, tongue lolling over your poor clit, whining into your heat with each passing lick and suck— soon burrying his nose between your folds, wanting the sweetness of your slick to cover all of him.
Breathy gasps escaped the confines of your throat and you fisted at his hair, eager for anything to help ground you.
“Mhm— taste so- so good, hon,” he gargled, speech muffled from your pussy, shaking his head from side to side, the crude slurping sounds filling the stuffy room. “Could eat this pretty pussy forever.”
He sighed into your heat, eyes rolling back dreamily, the mere idea of feasting on your cunt had him inebriated and his hips bucked into the mattress in attempt to quell the throbbing of his cock.
“Oh, Stevie,” you whined, tugging at his roots and raking your fingers over his scalp, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You weren’t entirely sure what you were thanking him for— probably because of how dumb you’d become from his tongue, you insisted whenever he feasted upon you, you’d let him know just how good you felt.
“My pleasure, honey,” he grinned into your cunt, eyes fixed on you, fluttering his pretty lashes while he sucked on your engorged clit. “Was thinkin’ bout it all day— couldn’t get any— any work done.”
He spoke between sucks and swallows, your sweet slick trickling down his throat and he slurped it up wantonly.
Steve pulled away before licking a fat stripe up the length of your slit, gathering your arousal on the tip of his tongue.
“C’mere, hon,” he rose to his knees, straddling your naked hips and hooking a palm behind your neck, bringing you forward. “Wan’ you to taste yourself.”
The pad of his thumb stroked at your cheek, face inches away from yours as he let the spit gather in his mouth.
“Open up, sweet girl.”
You complied, flattening your tongue and opening your mouth wide, drool began to gather at the corners of your mouth and your pussy clenched around nothing.
Steve pursed his lips, his tongue gathering his spit and your arousal, keeping your jaw steady before spitting the mixture into your awaiting mouth— a long silver glob of spit falling onto your tongue and you greedily swallowed it down, the crudeness of it all making you feel fuzzy and warm, cheeks heating and head cloudy.
“There,” he grinned lazily, eyes hooded and glazed over, “don’t you taste so good, hon?”
