He’s got much more to store.
This shit doesn’t even fit in my throat.
How the fuck will it fit anywhere else?
Holyshit.
Will he be giving me a chancefor itto fit anywhere else?
Will there be more of this?
Us?
Or isthisit?
Is this my one free try before you buy opportunity?
And I would buy.
No demo necessary.
Rather than provide a moment of reprieve or a second to adjust, he savagely slams my head forward, forcing me to choke.
Fight for air.
Air that he refuses to let me have when he tangles both sets of fingers in my messy locks for leverage.
“You don’t fucking breathe without my permission,” Garcia callously growls prior to smashing my face against the base of his cock to reiterate the point, musky aroma the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever smelled in my entire life.His hips slightly pull away, presenting the false notion that he’s about to grant it, only to ruthlessly rock forward, jerking my figure off the mattress.“Understood?”
Strangled sobs barely precede him repeating the action with more strength.
More power.
The next with less composure.
Less polish.
It’s as if each time my muscles constrict, they snatch more and more of it away, erasing the fancy applications he feels compelled to have in his system and revealing the basic beast of an OS he possesses.
“Fuck, I love your spit on my balls,” Master groans while roughly yanking my face away.“Bañarlos.”
Grabbing a full breath is interrupted by my face being smushed into the wet territory where it’s brutally dragged back and forth, overpowering my senses with strong scents of saltiness and faint notes of pine from his cologne.The slap to my cheek is light but so unexpected I can’t stop myself from gasping, unconsciously offering my tongue up for dominating.
“Lick that shit.” He doesn’t wait for me to begin before repeating it in Spanish.“Lame a tu amo.”
Like I’m nothing more than a lion anxious not to lose their place in the pride, I ferociously whip around the wet muscle.
Suck one ball into my mouth.
The other.
Whirl my tongue around them both again and in between them and slide it along the underside of his dick, eyes fixated on the way his are hooded.
How choppy his breathing is becoming.
How the veins in his neck are mesmerizingly pulsing.
Practically spelling out my name in Morris Code.
