Slurp~ Slurp~ Slurp~ Cough~
Obscene, pleasure-laden sounds echoed from deep within Isis's throat, blending with muffled gags, as if sucking Aziz's cock was some kind of secret ritual—sacred and animalistic at once. Her head moved up and down at an increasingly frenzied pace, black hair flying with each motion, her mouth molding to his shape with almost artistic precision.
And yet, no matter how wild it seemed, no matter how deeply she took him—until her throat completely surrendered and adjusted to the thickness of Aziz's cock—Isis didn't flinch, didn't squirm, didn't beg for mercy. As if that rough treatment was no punishment, but a reward. A worship. A privilege. As if it wasn't even a provocation, but an offering she welcomed gladly.
