She gagged once — a wet, choking sound that made her throat spasm tightly around him — then swallowed hard and pushed further.
Her nose eventually pressed flush against his pelvis, her throat visibly bulging around his thickness, lips stretched obscenely at the base. Thick rivulets of spit spilled from the corners of her mouth and ran down her chin, dripping onto the white satin between her knees.
She held him there, fully buried, her throat contracting in rhythmic swallowing pulses around him, eyes watering as she looked up with an expression that said she had no intention of stopping.
Her tongue still worked subtly inside, pressing and massaging the underside even while her throat was stuffed full.
