Pressure

I feel his grip shift from my hair to the back of my skull, fingers spreading wide, and the pressure comes before I can brace for it. My jaw stretches around him, the thick heat of him filling my mouth inch by inch until I feel the head of him push past the back of my tongue. Half of him inside me, and his hips are already rolling, telling me he's not finished.

I choke once, soft and wet, my hands flying to his thighs for balance. But I don't pull away. I don't fight it. The sting of tears prickles at the corners of my eyes as he presses deeper, and I let him take what he wants, my throat loosening around him as he finds his rhythm.

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