With the completion of the demanded ten minutes, Lilly releases Roger’s n****e. The wet length is refulgent, an incredible shade of crimson. It somewhat stands like the hard on Lilly moments ago teasingly solicited.
“You taste different,” Lilly casually notes in moving to the left n****e.
For another full ten minutes, Roger’s opposing gland endures an identically wondrous oral assault. Upon completion, Lilly sits back on the couch and Roger slowly topples in a curious state of languor.
He lies on the rug sensing a glow of fulfillment, both elongated strips of flesh plump and firm... almost standing in satiation. The inability to perform as a normally functioning male followed by the deluge of new pleasure offered by Lilly’s mouth, tongue and lips bring thoughtful repose.
