Throat Fuck For Layla

Layla hits her knees like it's the only place she's supposed to be. Mick steps up with that devil-smile and grabs two fistfuls of her hair, shoving his cock straight past her lips and down her throat like she forgot it belonged there. Every stroke comes slick and mean, his dick bulging her neck while spit bubbles at the corners of her mouth. She gags loud, eyes already swimming, but she keeps her hands behind her back and lets him use the whole wet tunnel. Mick gives a cocky chuckle when she starts making that messy glug-glug sound, then slams harder, balls smacking her chin each time. Strings of drool slide down her tits. Every couple thrusts he pulls out just long enough for her to steal one hacked breath, tongue out, before he rams back in and throat-fucks the air right out of her again. He talks a little trash the whole time—calls her a messy little cocksleeve—and Layla moans around the shaft like the words hit her clit. Mick buries himself to the hilt one last long push until his stomach kisses her nose, then grinds there, riding out the way her throat squeezes and spasms. When he finally yanks out she coughs up thick spit that drips off her chin in ropes, but she’s already grinning like the next load can’t come fast enough.