It always begins with lips.
Wet lips part and envelop the head, but only the head at first. I need more moisture to go farther.
My tongue ripples against the underside, and it becomes lubricated enough to slide a little farther across my tongue. It presses closer to my throat with every motion. First in, straining to fully embed, then back out again.
As I get closer and closer to the base, to engulfing the entirety, fingers come down to show me where my lips should strive to reach.
Withdrawing almost entirely, I’ll need more breath for the next press forward, and use the momentum to carry me down the length until lips kiss fingertips, twisting a little at the end to open my throat.
A moan reaches my ears and hands pull me closer. All breath is stolen, so I relax my open mouth into the rocking hips for as long as possible.
Nature betrays me, though, and shoulders jerk slightly with my instinct for air. After one last press, one last thrust, and the release of hands, I am sliding off of the slippery shaft until all that remains is the head again. After a a few pants, sucking in oxygen desperately around the edges, the slide begins again.
The second full immersion is always easier than the first, since the slickness makes it go down easier. Breathe, relax, and let the mind empty.
Hands in hair, desire burning in the eyes that meet mine on the upstroke, this is Zen. Everything is still in that press inwards. Each time the length is embedded more fully.
Thrusts become more regular, and I am a doll, a tool. I exist only for His pleasure, taking mine in the moment when He is buried at full length in me so far, His body motions become my only clue that He is spilling cum down my throat.
Withdrawing and thrusting a final time to pull every last drop from Him, I raise my head in triumph, saliva glistening from nostrils to chin.
All for those glorious words.