Arthur's hands came up, gripping the back of her thick, leather-clad thighs, holding her flush against his face. He parted her outer petals with the flat of his tongue, seeking the hidden depths within. The contrast in temperature was jarring—the chill of the morning air against his skin, compared to the absolute, boiling furnace of her core.
He pushed his tongue upward, finding the slick, tight barrier of her entrance. He didn't just lick the surface; he pressed forward, his tongue penetrating the tight ring of muscle, sliding deep into her inner walls.
"FUCK!" Samantha screamed, her back arching so violently her spine popped.
Arthur explored her insides with deliberate, agonizing slowness. He curled his tongue, lapping at the ridged, scalding hot walls of her vaginal canal. The inside of her was a velvet furnace, clenching and pulsing around the intrusion of his tongue. He scooped up thick, generous mouthfuls of her cream, swallowing her essence greedily.
