Crashing forward, my lips taste pastry, but true sweetness is just beyond.
|- 96 -|
Fuck, we're loud.
A passerby might assume someone is wounded from the intensity of our pained whimpers and moans.
Devouring the obstacle between us and licking up the custard filling are just the warm-up act. Amid gnashing teeth, greedy tongues explore and press into unknown territory for the first time.
That familiar hand cups my neck, locking me against her, while the other re-grips frenetically at my chest. I can't keep track of my own hands for shit. One seems hell-bent on making a bee-line for her ass while the other twirls and yanks at large handfuls of silky hair.
A/N: Mmmm, can't stop now! Read on...
Thank you, Pyejammies, for helping me pick out the words that needed picking out!