𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑶𝑵𝑬𝒀, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔

♡ 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑲𝑰𝑻𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑵 / 𝑷𝑨𝑼𝑳

in the kitchen
༊
'70

with the world spinning around so quickly, you had no time to wonder how you'd ended up on the kitchen counter; legs spread, white knuckles grasping onto its cold edge as your lace panties dangled helplessly from your painted feet. he was going mad against your heat, exposing you to his wet mouth without remorse. all you could hear was crazed lapping and gracious slurps while all you could feel was your stomach clenching and your entire body trembling as your sensitive clit was ravished over and over by paul's wonderfully consummate tongue.

it wasn't long before his bright brown eyes met yours and broke you out of your pleasure filled haze. he was almost pleading in nature, as if he was wishing your soul would spread over his lips and wash over his entire face like he was sipping a refreshing glass of lemonade. his arched eyebrows furrowed so majestically in response to your incessant cries and whimpers that he so eagerly pulled from you.

you fisted his hair and felt that warm, wet nudging press harder onto your throbbing clit. he removes one hand from your thigh, slides it down your flowering folds and presses two gentle fingers up into you, resorting to sucking on that reddening bundle of nerves. you could almost cry at the feeling, almost cry at the sight.

"you're so pretty, paulie," you whimper, pressing your quivering fingers to your lips and rocking your hips against his mouth as his talented fingers seemed to stimulate each pulsing nerve within you. he let out an airy chuckle and lifted his head up slightly, displaying his drenched mustache and wild beard below.

"you're pretty," he replies with a sly smile and presses his fingers deeper into your familiar warmth.