Evilangel
Vicki Chase, Jonni Darkko Pic(s)
The room was bathed in the soft, golden glow of the lamp, casting long shadows that danced across the walls as she knelt before him, her eyes locked on his with a mixture of devotion and desire. Her lips parted slowly, a warm, inviting breath escaping as she took him in, her mouth a velvet sanctuary that welcomed him completely, enveloping him in a heat that made his thoughts blur. She moved with a practiced rhythm, her head bobbing gently as she took him deeper, each motion a testament to her skill and the pleasure she derived from his growing urgency. A soft, muffled sound escaped her throat, vibrating through him as she pushed her limits, her throat yielding to his presence without resistance. His hands tangled in her hair, not to guide but to feel the silken strands, his fingers tightening as waves of ecstasy built within him, threatening to crest. She sensed his impending release, her pace quickening, her tongue tracing patterns that sent shivers up his spine, until he could no longer hold back, his climax surging forth in a hot, pulsing rush. She accepted it all, her mouth working to draw out every last tremor, before pulling back with a gasp, her lips glistening and cheeks flushed from the effort. He watched, breathless, as she tilted her head back, allowing the evidence of his passion to adorn her skin, a glistening map of their shared intimacy that she wore with pride. In that moment, she was the embodiment of sensual artistry, a vision of fulfillment that left them both trembling in the aftermath.
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