“stay still for me, baby,” michael whispers as he kisses all the way up your thrashing, bare legs. “open those pretty legs.” he orders softly, tapping the side of your thigh.

you don’t know how he feels. he’s in a simple white tee and jeans, his telling eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses, low and sleepy, but to you it’s a mystery.

you open your legs as wide you can, the sticky sounds of your untouched folds opening up for your boyfriend.

“oh, that’s what i like,” michael murmurs to himself, all self-assured and confident, one hand planted on your abdomen, experimentally pushing down. “all slimey and sticky f’me.”

the pressure in your stomach is tight and suffocating, and your entrance automatically opens up as if calling out for help, the shy trickle of slick escaping you unapologetically.

“don’t tease, mike,” you whimper toward the white ceiling.

“‘m not teasin’.” michael says, pressing fluttery, chaste kisses across the sticky insides of your thighs. the cool metal of his aviators pokes into your skin. “just taking my time, honey.”

“wanna take a look at that,” michael continues, two fingers peeling open your folds. the black lenses of his glasses focused on your welcoming, already dripping hole. “wouldn’t wanna miss that pretty sight for the world.”

you feel drool drip down your ass when michael finally closes his mouth around your pulsing little button. “you’re leaking all over,” he chuckles, as if your squirmy sounds are some kind of joke to him. “so fucking disgusting, baby. got myself such a disgusting, sensitive girl.”

sweat pools all over your stomach, the little dips of your collarbones, the insides of your thighs. and michael laps it all up, tongue swirling over your moist pussy lips, your wet entrance. humming and moaning in approval as you spurt out your sticky substance, leaving his lips shiny.

one free hand stays on your lower stomach, occasionally pushing down. it feels like there’s a big bubble in your stomach that’s about to pop as he increases the pressure of his hand.

your hand clasps around his on your abdomen, whining “it’s sloshing all inside, mike,” voice pitchy and pathetic.

“‘s funny,” michael muses softly, laughing to himself. “when i push down, your pussy...” he pushes down on your stomach, and then you feel it, your entrance gapes open, sweet, balmy cream spilling out.

then, he keeps on attacking your squelching hole with his tongue, fingers rubbing up and down your plush legs, fingers scraping over your knees.

“mike— ah, pl— fuck, go deeper,” you don’t even know what you’re saying, michael eating you out into oblivion. continually babbling out how good to you he is, how you need more, how you feel kind of funny down there.

“michael, i’m gonna—” you moan, feeling the powerful flick of his tongue rolling over your clit. you’re seeing stars, but there’s a light, floaty pressure within. “i’m so— nghh— feelin’ so full.”

“don’t worry about it, pretty,” michael instructs, the dark lenses of his aviators covered in condensation, tiny little drops scattered over the glasses. “feels like you’re dripping all over— but you’re doing s’good.”

your hole sounds empty, filled, empty, filled again, as he continues to tongue fuck you, pressing a kiss to your twitching little hole as he pushes down on your stomach for what feels like the umpteenth time.

you hold your breath for a moment. only the obscene sounds of his tongue prodding into your spongey entrance to coax out your climax. “i know you’re feelin’ it, baby. show me you’re feelin’—”

you can’t take it anymore. the pressure inside you unleashes without warning.

you shatter with a high-pitched moan, white essence shooting out of your hole like a fountain. your legs shake, and you keep gasping for extra air. it’s a lot, it’s sticky, and it’s everywhere.

“that’s a good girl,” michael whispers, completely in awe as he continues to fuck you through it as you empty your flooded channel onto his pretty face, pussy convulsing and spritzing cum all over him.

“that was a big one, huh, pretty? did good f’me,” he murmurs, examining how your pussy bubbles out the last oozes of white. he brings his face up to yours. “made y’squirt, you know that, baby?” michael tells you, full of pride.

little slabs of cum stick to michael’s lips, his cheeks, it’s in his hair, dripping down his jaw, the tip of his nose. and most importantly, it’s splattered all over his infamous aviators.

“maybe y’can lick me clean, baby.” he proposes, but you know it’s actually an order. especially when he looks all edible and authorative with those aviators on.

and you do. you end up straddling michael’s lap, bare cunt spread open across his thigh, cradling his face in your hands as you lick your boyfriend clean like your cum is sweet vanilla ice cream on a hot summer day.

you taste your own essence, shy kitten licks over the cool glass of his aviators, leaving a disgustingly slimey trail behind. “you enjoyin’ it, baby?” he asks, looking at how you lap him up like a lollipop, all blissed out.

you hum. “taste it.”

your tongue slides over his soft lips, as michael sneakily sucks on your tongue because he can’t resist to taste your white sauce again. you follow with long languid licks over the expanse of his cheeks, tongue rotating over the faint stubbles of his beard.

all the while michael rolls your hips down his jean-clad thigh, your pathetically wet, creamy sounds filling his ears all over again. eventually you come again from just rubbing against his thigh, transparent liquid lazily sliding out of your tiny, abused, opened hole, leaving a balmy filter behind over your puckered little entrance. the muscle reddens from exhaustion, the buttery cum oozing out of you slightly stinging as it spreads aaalll over the denim of his jeans and on the duvet like an open faucet.

you come with a small, relieved sigh, all breathy and dreamy-sounding while your tongue is trapped between michael’s lips as he sucks at you, your boobs pushing up against his chest every time you push your cunt to the tent in his jeans again. you can’t even warm him; you’re not able to do anything but just let it happen.