Ryan was breathing hard and panicking. He was staring straight at my tongue, which was buried deep in Hina's taut, glistening folds, completely transfixed, and unable to move his clenched fingers, clenched in to his sides against all temptation.
His eyes could not escape Hina's trembling thighs, the shiny, yielding invitation of her womanhood clad in all that lust, and her hips settled uncomfortably from rising off the furs in front of him, now showing her pussy lips to my view.
"Dexter..." she wept mournfully in a sad sigh, allowing her broken body to fall onto the arch of my tongue, sliding away, the soft clench of the hot tightness of her lack of my tongue and the rush of air.
