Gina goes down on Miles

She slides off his lap and onto her knees in front of him in one fluid motion, her hands at the waistband of his boxers.

She looks up at him.

Gina: I have been thinking about this since round two.

She pulls his boxers down slowly and off, dropping them to the side. She wraps both hands around his cock and looks at it for a moment with the focused appreciation of someone who has been waiting for a proper look.

Gina: she exhales quietly. okay. There it is.

She strokes him slowly, both hands, base to tip, watching his face.

Miles: gina.

Gina: she keeps stroking. yeah?

Miles: you don't have to—

Gina: she looks up at him. I know I don't have to.

She leans forward and runs her tongue slowly from the base of his cock all the way to the tip in one long deliberate stroke. Then she looks back up at him.

Gina: I want to.

She takes him in her mouth slowly, just the tip at first, her tongue working in small circles. Her hands keep moving at the base, one stroking, one cupping him lightly. She takes him deeper by increments, unhurried, her eyes occasionally finding his from below.

Miles: god.

She pulls back completely, her hand still stroking.

Gina: too much?

Miles: the opposite of too much.

She smiles and goes back down, taking him deeper this time, her head moving in a slow steady rhythm. One hand works the base in time with her mouth, the other resting lightly on his thigh, her nails barely grazing his skin.

She picks up her pace gradually, her head moving faster, the suction increasing. He puts his hand in her hair and she lets him, adjusting her angle slightly when his grip tightens.

Then she slows completely.

Back to almost nothing. Just her tongue, moving with infuriating patience along the underside of his cock from base to tip and back again.

Miles: he exhales hard. you're doing that on purpose.

Gina: she pulls back just enough to speak. doing what.

Miles: you know what.

Gina: she looks up at him with bright eyes. I have no idea what you're talking about.

She takes him back in her mouth, slow and deep, her cheeks hollowing with the suction. Then fast again, her head moving with purpose, her hand working in perfect rhythm.

Then slow.

Then fast.

Back and forth, alternating with the patience of someone who has decided this is going to take exactly as long as she wants it to take.

He grips her hair tighter.

She pulls back.

She moves lower.

She takes one of his balls in her mouth gently, her tongue moving slowly, one hand still stroking his cock in a steady rhythm above. She moves to the other, the same unhurried attention, her eyes closed, completely absorbed.

Miles: jesus gina.

She pulls back and looks up at him, her hand still working.

Gina: still think you're the one doing me a favor here?

Miles: I take it back completely.

She laughs quietly and takes him back in her mouth, deep and slow and deliberate, her hands and mouth working together now in a rhythm that has stopped being teasing and started being something considerably more purposeful.

His grip in her hair tightens.