The tiles are cold against my hands, taking his hot lance deeper into my cunt. His fingers slide into my mouth to silence my yelping. The motif swirls as a vortex burrowing into my soul. Sucking them, the notion of being spit-roasted by two lifeguards delivers a potent convulsive climax.
Provoking his premature finish, my mouth awaits it, and his milk boils over. Noisy, hungry gulps take it all.
Sheepishly, he melts away, and I sashay towards my husband.
“Any good?”
“Not as good as you.”
I reciprocate his smug grin and point, “How about that one over there?”
