Alterations

Liz Jordan is tired of pretending she doesn’t notice the way Alex Jones fills out his shirts. Today the tape measure betrays her. She wraps it around his chest, lingers at his hips, then drops to her knees so she can check the inseam. The tent in his pants answers the question before she finishes the count. She frees him. Warm weight fills her hand, then her mouth. She licks, sucks, lets his balls rest on her tongue, dragging slow, wet heat over each one while spit runs down her chin. Alex holds still, lets her take what she wants. They shift to the table. She climbs over him, mouth still busy while his tongue finds her cunt. Sixty-nine drags on until her thighs shake. He grips her ass, spreads it, rims her tight ring in lazy circles until she pushes back for more. He lines up. One steady thrust sinks his cock into her ass. She groans around the shaft in her mouth, keeps sucking him while he works deeper. He fucks her with long, deliberate strokes, pulls out, feeds it back to her lips. The taste of her own ass clings to him; she swallows anyway. When he finally stays inside, she rides the pace he sets until he pulses deep. Hot cum floods her, thick and steady. He slips free. She turns, cleans him with slow, careful licks, tongue working every drop until he’s soft and shining again.