Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away
Maea did not intend to make him feel guilty. Not really. No doubt her tears already accomplished that, and she knew somewhere that he was not likely to forget that she had cried because of him. Or forgive himself for it, even if she did. This wasn't about her, not about the pain or the rough times to come.
It was all about him, and a simple desire to make him happy. Feel good. If only for a little while. And it seemed her intentions panned out, if his reaction was any indication. His voice filled the air, and it thrilled her to hear it. Rather unusual, but all the more lovely for it. She could feel his knees quiver, stance adjusting to keep him upright, but clearly there were some difficulties with that...
Maea hummed her approval, the slight vibration of her voice spreading through the hollow of her mouth. Her free hand stroked the inside of his thigh, nails scraping lightly over the tender skin, snagging on a scar, but kept going, not lingering on where it came from. Even if she could guess, it didn't matter. She couldn't bring herself to care.
Gradually, her pace began to pick up as she grew more sure, more comfortable with what she was doing. Her tongue kept stroking his length as she moved her mouth over it, the taste of him flooding all her senses. Rubbing his balls with the one hand, she paused at the tip of his cock, then sucked him back in, scraping her teeth lightly over it on the way down. His hand in her hair was tight, encouraging... as if she needed it.
It was all about him, and a simple desire to make him happy. Feel good. If only for a little while. And it seemed her intentions panned out, if his reaction was any indication. His voice filled the air, and it thrilled her to hear it. Rather unusual, but all the more lovely for it. She could feel his knees quiver, stance adjusting to keep him upright, but clearly there were some difficulties with that...
Maea hummed her approval, the slight vibration of her voice spreading through the hollow of her mouth. Her free hand stroked the inside of his thigh, nails scraping lightly over the tender skin, snagging on a scar, but kept going, not lingering on where it came from. Even if she could guess, it didn't matter. She couldn't bring herself to care.
Gradually, her pace began to pick up as she grew more sure, more comfortable with what she was doing. Her tongue kept stroking his length as she moved her mouth over it, the taste of him flooding all her senses. Rubbing his balls with the one hand, she paused at the tip of his cock, then sucked him back in, scraping her teeth lightly over it on the way down. His hand in her hair was tight, encouraging... as if she needed it.
