Girl next door

She appears at your door with that fresh-faced look and the quiet promise of trouble. Winifred holds your gaze, then drops to her knees, hair falling forward as her mouth finds you. Her hand pumps slowly while her tongue works the head, tasting, teasing, until the first hard push carries her lips all the way down. She sets a steady rhythm, cheeks hollowing each time she draws back, her low, wet sounds filling the room. When she feels you start to swell, she sinks deeper, nose pressed to your skin, throat opening to take the last inch. Her eyes water, lashes fluttering, yet she stays locked on you, swallowing every pulse until you are empty and she has licked the last trace clean from her lips.