The scorpion doesn't sting

She presses her feet together around his cock and starts to stroke, slow at first, letting each sole glide along the thick shaft. The soles are smooth, the toes painted dark, flexing as she works him. He leans back and she keeps going, heels rolling, arches cupping the head every time she drags upward. When her mouth finally takes over, the change is sudden. Wet heat replaces cool skin. She bobs deep, lips stretched, saliva shining at the corners, while one foot stays planted on his thigh, toes still flexing. She pulls off, catches her breath, then pushes the head between her toes again, stroking faster now. His breath hitches. She plants both feet flat on his lap and pumps hard, soles tight around the crown until he bursts across the arches, thick ropes catching on the tops of her toes and sliding down the smooth skin toward her heels.