Calloused Hands. Silent Tension. a Messy, Delicious Reward.

He doesn’t say a word just steps up to the hole, his rough hands resting on the wall. I take him deep, slow and steady, feeling the pressure build. As his breathing quickens, I pull back and raise my hand, just in time to catch every drop of his thick, warm load. I look at the mess in my palm – then lick it up, slowly, like it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.