Hanging. Her hair on the ground. Her face was flushed— the blood rushing to her head, the redness visible in her cheeks, in her neck. Her green eyes were wide. Her lips were parted.
He pushed his cock against her mouth.
The head. Against her lips. The dark, swollen head against her pink lips. The pre-cum— clear, slick— touched her mouth. She tasted it. Salt. Musk. The bitterness of a man.
"You can take it," he said. His voice was low. His hand went to her throat. His thumb rubbed the skin. The milky white skin of her throat. He pressed. Not hard. Feeling. The throat beneath his thumb. The pulse. The swallow.
She felt the cock.
Against her mouth. The head pushing in. Past her lips. Past her teeth. Onto her tongue. The taste filled her— salt, skin, musk, the faint bitterness. She gagged. Her throat convulsed.
His thumb on her throat.
