Drake watched—tears streaming—voice hoarse and shattered.
"No… Camilla… stop… please… I can't… I can't watch this…"
But she didn't stop.
Her head moved faster—lips sliding up and down my length, cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling around the head every time she pulled back—drool already dripping from the corners of her mouth, down her chin, onto her heaving tits.
I tightened my grip in her hair—thrusting shallowly—making her gag softly, throat fluttering around me.
"Look at her, Drake," I said—voice calm, cruel. "Look at your wife choking on my cock. Look at how eagerly she takes it. She never sucked you like this, did she? Never gagged for you. Never dripped down her thighs just from tasting you."
Camilla whimpered—humiliated, aroused—hips rocking back like she was trying to rub her soaked cunt against nothing.
I pulled her off with a wet pop—cock glistening with her spit—then slapped it once against her cheek—leaving a shiny trail across her flushed skin.
