Sloane’s POV
He pushes into my mouth and the angle lets him slide deep in one stroke.
The thickness of him stretches my jaw immediately and the head passes the back of my tongue and pushes into my throat.
I gag hard, my body convulsing, spit flooding around his shaft and pouring up my face toward my forehead. Tears leak from my eyes into my hairline and drool streams from my stretched lips across my cheeks.
He doesn’t ease in gently. He grips the base of my throat with one hand — not squeezing, just holding, feeling the bulge of his own c**k moving through my neck from the outside — and f***s my mouth with deep, steady strokes that push past my gag reflex every time.
“Jesus Christ,” he grunts above me, watching his c**k disappear into my upside-down face. “Your throat is — f**k, Sloan
