Jan. Week 3: Frozen--Leah gets into the scene...

"Well," Leah quipped dryly as she wrapped her lips around him, "guess it's time to Let It Go." The pun hung heavy in the air, accompanied by Mr. Baker's chuckle—a signal of approval amidst their shared depravity.

"Do you want to Blow a Snowman?" he quipped with a lewd chuckle. Leah rolled her eyes and doubled down, her mouth working him with expert precision, taut and fluid, a perverse symphony of suction and spit. "You're really giving me the Olaf treatment," Mr. Baker gasped, each word a staccato burst as Leah's lips moved skillfully up and down his shaft. He was slick and glistening, every movement of her head sending shivers of pleasure up his spine. Leah kept at it, her tongue swirling around him with the kind of craftsmanship that only experience could hone.

"Ugh shit…frozen rock solid in your mouth right now…fuck that feels good," he choked out, barely able to keep his composure. Leah almost gagged a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but instead she just kept sucking.

In those moments beneath him, Leah drifted into a sort of dark autopilot mode—her mind going into some deep recesses of her slutty self while her mouth went on and off Mr. Baker's shaft again and again. The rhythmic motion of her mouth on his cock's head and shaft soon became mechanical; an act that spoke volumes about submission tinged with being sensually complicit.

Before long, Mr. Baker signaled for a change—the scene demanded variety after all—and Leah complied just as coldly efficient when lying back upon a worn couch suffused with musky shadows of encounters past. Her gown remained artfully draped over parted thighs while he positioned himself between them—a cruel mockery of intimacy laced with contrived theatricality.

"What position do you want me in?" She asked.