He wasn’t in a hurry, but he wasn’t going to release her till she had performed to his liking and that meant taking a load in the mouth and suckin... till his balls were empty. He blew, she struggled but he held her till he was empty; she fell back, cum and saliva dribbling from her mouth; he handed her a wet tissue and grinned as she spat and wiped her mouth, wasting a number of the wet tissues. “You know”, he said as he redressed. “I love a suck job and you were fantastic, you have a nice set. The skitter of her silver-glossed toes on the pale oak floor is a choreographed performance. I watch the arch of her soles, the rise and twist of heels, the convexity of her calves as she stalks the dancers, circling the kiss-locked couple. Izzy's dress clings, emphasising those essential places and evoking memories of her lithe frame beneath. The limber of her muscles, their costume of ethereal flesh, her all too real bones. I focus on the shift of her hips as she moves, remember her buttocks. More

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