The relentless, delicious suction of Haruto's mouth had already pushed Misaki to the very edge of ecstasy. Her thighs were trembling violently around his head, her natural vaginal discharge still pouring in thick, creamy rivers down his chin and neck, soaking the pillow beneath his head. Every long, greedy swallow he took from her had sent sparks straight up her spine, but now the pleasure had crested. She needed to push it further—deeper, filthier, more overwhelming. Her mind screamed for the one thing she had never been able to do with another man while he was fully conscious: make him drink her squirt while he was still asleep.
She stopped moving.
Completely.
