I fucked his throat in long punishing strokes, balls slapping against his chin.
Ghost's bound hands flexed uselessly behind his back.
Tears competitively rolled down his face, mixing with the mess of spit.
I slowed down again, reveling in my control, I pulled out and rubbed my slick cock all over Ghost's Face — across his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids— marking him.
He growled like a needy bitch, bubbling out his saliva.
Then I pushed back in, pressing his nose flat against my pelvis, buried to the hilt.
I counted to twenty seconds in my head. Longer than other times I've counted in the past.
Ghost's throat spasmed wildly. His eyes rolled back. He passed out shortly, at the last second I withdrew, he snapped back up and coughed until his stomach heaved.
Letting him gasp, strings of thick saliva connected his lips to my cock.
Again and again, I edged myself and him — long, torturous minutes of deep throating, face-fucking, and teasing.
