Candid

Kandi takes her time. She wraps her lips around the head and sinks lower, letting the shaft slide along her tongue until her nose meets skin. Every slow bob presses deeper, her throat tightening around him in wet, steady pulls. She doesn't rush the rhythm; she works her mouth until spit coats his length and her chin gleams. Her tongue slides lower, tracing the weight of his balls with patient licks before she returns to swallow him whole again. When he finally gives in, she stays right there, lips sealed tight as his release floods her mouth. The spill is too much; it leaks out at the corners, trails down her chin and drips in thick streaks across her breasts. She keeps him between her lips until the last pulse fades, swallowing what she can and letting the rest mark her skin.