Perfect Cut

April Snow edited the video until the mouse slipped. On screen the blonde knelt, ass pushed back, Mick Blue’s cock already slick with spit and her own lube. She held the frame, but her thighs pressed together under the desk. The image shifted. He pulled out, rested the head on her lower lip; she opened and took him down slow, tongue flat, eyes wet. Another cut: balls tight against her chin while his finger worked back into her. April’s own mouth parted without thinking. She stripped the rest of her clothes off right there on the chair, skin hot under the blue light of the monitor. The clip looped. Mick eased out of the girl’s ass, fed the length straight back into her throat. April copied the move with two fingers against her own tongue. She tasted salt that wasn’t hers yet. The rough drag of his knuckles on the blonde’s bush matched the rhythm April set between her legs. When the scene cut to him sliding back inside that stretched hole, April leaned forward, lips almost touching the glass. She stayed like that, breathing, until the file ran out of frames.