I dig my fingers into his hair, pulling at his strands while he sucks me in, licking with more confidence and strength, my p***y in his mouth, devouring it like a possessed man.
When he lets go with a pop that almost tears the fabric, I push his hands away from me and, locking eyes with him, slowly lower myself onto the wood, my knees anchored to the floor as I bow before him.
His c**k is so hard it visibly molds against his swim shorts, showing every inch of its glorious outline. The tip presses insistently, desperate to escape the confines of the wet fabric.
Killian lifts his hips slightly to let me undress him and, once the job is done, his c**k springs free, ready, pre-c*m leaking from its blunt tip. I lean down, my hair pushed aside by his hand, and lower myself to lick that liquid
