Taking A Photo Break

Ice calls for a break, and the room empties. Loreen stays put. Toby follows her lead. He reaches between her thighs, fingers brushing lace before he even says a word. The bulge in his jeans presses tight. She watches it grow, then stands, smiling without hurry. One heel, then the other. Skirt drops. Shirt lifts over her head in one slow pull. Naked now, she drops to her knees. Her mouth opens wide around him. Wet sounds fill the quiet studio while her tongue traces every vein. She takes him deep, hand working the base, until spit glistens on her chin. Toby lifts her onto the couch, spreads her legs, and pushes in. The stretch pulls a low moan from her throat. He sinks to the hilt and stays there, hips rolling in hard, steady strokes. Her nails dig into his shoulders. Each thrust knocks a breath from her lungs. He pulls out at the last moment, fist tight around his shaft, and paints her face in thick streaks that catch on her lashes and lips. She licks what she can reach, chest still heaving.