[Every little sound she makes is something he's pulled from her, and don't be fooled, he's savoring each one. The flicks of her tongue are met with his own, just small brushes and strokes that match the way his fingers flatten and curl between her legs. This slow, careful pace, the contrast between them as he works her higher without letting her do a thing in return, it hadn't started out as a test but it's become one, and she's passing it with flying colors.
She isn't at an angle to tell how hard he is, but it might show in the rough edge to his voice] Oh, I want you to get on your knees for me, Ms. Stacy, but first you need to come for me. [And in the way one finger finally sinks into her, in and out and then it's two fingers inside and curling back for her to rut against his hand.]
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She isn't at an angle to tell how hard he is, but it might show in the rough edge to his voice] Oh, I want you to get on your knees for me, Ms. Stacy, but first you need to come for me. [And in the way one finger finally sinks into her, in and out and then it's two fingers inside and curling back for her to rut against his hand.]