Joelle curled the sides of her tongue and she drew the bulky head to her palate and she suctioned deeply. The taste . . . the essence of Saxon that sprang into her mouth was hot, musky, and male. Out of nowhere her own body responded with a moan churning from her belly. Her breasts strained suddenly with the nipple tips feeling like little sparks snapping on the ends, while her loins flushed with an ache echoing in her vagina that connected to her clitoris with erratic throbs. The hand tearing into her hair was harshly pulling and pushing, making her mouth suction up and down the first quarter of Saxon’s hot-fleshed cock. That was as much as she could seem to fit into her mouth. Nevertheless, the hand pumping her head seemed to think she ought to take more and on each downward plunge, the head of Saxon’s cock battered the back of her throat. Grazing her lips roughly. “I am hard now,” Saxon hissed, above her as though he could barely speak.
