Backstage with Gina Blonde

Gina walks in like a dream—blonde hair catching the light, mouth soft, eyes too wide for someone who knows what's coming. I want to watch her learn. One step closer and I press against her lips, heat blooming where my cock meets skin. She opens slow, tongue brushing unsure at first. Then the weight of me drags across her tongue, thick and hot, sliding deeper with each small motion. Spit gathers, starts to drip. Her jaw works, fighting to take more, cheeks already flushing from the effort. Every bob of her head pulls me farther in, throat flexing around the intrusion, throat working to hold steady while I feed her more of it. The tension in her shoulders gives way to rhythm, and she sinks lower, wet sounds filling the quiet space, her mouth open and full, learning every inch she hasn't tasted before.