Chapter 125 | Calling The Wrong Name (18+)

Eleven inches, then her nose pressed against his pelvis. She had taken all of him. All twelve inches down her slutty throat.

Her throat was full, her lips wrapped around the base with his pubic hair scratching her nose, her chin resting against his heavy balls that bounced as she hit them.

She held there for a moment, breathing through her nose, her eyes watering, her body trembling with the effort of containing him.

Then she pulled back. Slowly. Inch by inch.

The shaft emerging from her throat glistening with spit, the head popping free with a wet, obscene sound. She gasped for air, her chest heaving, drool running down her chin.

"Fuck," she panted. "You're so big I can barely breathe."

She didn't wait for a response. She dove back in. This time, she found a rhythm.

Up and down. In and out.

"Gawk! Gawk! Gawk!"

Her head bobbing in his lap, her hands working the place where her mouth couldn't reach, her tongue swirling around the head every time she pulled back, tasting the precum that leaked from the tip in steady, salty drops.

Andrew's hands found her hair as he held it. His fingers tangled in the dark strands, his hips lifting in small, involuntary thrusts that matched the rhythm of her mouth.

"Hm…"

His breathing had changed as his drowsy self started to grunt hard.

She was good. Incredibly good. Her mouth was hot and wet and tight, and she knew how to use it.

She didn't use the same speed but actually varied her speed, fast then slow, deep then shallow.

She used her tongue in ways Andrew didn't know tongues could be used, swirling and flicking and pressing against the sensitive underside of the head.

She sucked on the tip, her cheeks hollowing, the pressure sending jolts of pleasure through his body that made his toes curl.

She used her hands too. Stroking the shaft in twisting motions while her mouth worked the head.

Cupping his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten as his body approached the edge.

She moaned like a slut too him, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation, and the sound of her moan, the genuine, hungry, needy sound of a woman who loved what she was doing, was almost as arousing as the act itself.

"Monica," Andrew gasped. "I'm close."

She didn't care that it wasn't her name he called and didn't pull back.

Instead, she doubled down her effort Her head moved faster, her mouth working him with desperate intensity, her hands pumping the shaft in quick, twisting strokes. She wanted it. She wanted him to finish.

She wanted to taste him, to feel him cum inside of her and swallow everything he had to give.

"Ugh!"

Andrew's body suddenly tensed. Every muscle locked. His hips lifted off the bed, driving himself deep into her throat, and his fingers tightened in her hair as he pushed her head down to the limit.

His jaw clenched and his back arched. The pressure built in his balls, rising through his shaft, an inferno of pleasure that consumed everything else.

"Pfuuush!"

The first blast was massive. A thick, heavy rope of cum that shot straight down her throat, hot and thick and voluminous. Jasmine's eyes went wide, but she didn't pull back. She swallowed.

Greedily her throat swallowed in rhythmic gulps, milking him for every drop.

The second blast was just as large. Then the third. Then the fourth. Andrew's cock pulsed and throbbed in her mouth, each spasm sending another wave of cum down her throat, and she took it all, her lips sealed around the shaft, her throat swallowing endlessly.

The shots kept coming, each one thick and heavy, and Jasmine kept swallowing, kept drinking, her eyes watering, her throat aching, her stomach filling with the hot, salty load. She could feel it pooling in her belly, warm and heavy, and the feeling made her moan again, a muffled sound of satisfaction that vibrated through his cock.

Finally, the pulses slowed. The spurts became dribbles. Andrew's body relaxed, his hips sinking back into the mattress, his fingers loosening in her hair.

His cock softened slightly in her mouth, still thick but no longer rigid, and she held it there for a moment, her tongue gently cleaning the head, swallowing the last drops.

She pulled off slowly. Her lips parted from the head with a soft pop, and she sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Her chin was wet, her lips were bruised and swollen but her eyes were glazed with a mixture of satisfaction and hunger.

She swallowed one last time, visibly, deliberately, her throat working to send the last of his load down into her belly.

"I swallowed all of it," she said, her voice hoarse. She smiled. "Every drop."

Andrew lay there with closed eyes.

The orgasm had wiped everything else away as he dozed off.

She lay down beside him. Her head on the pillow next to his, her body curled on its side, her eyes watching his face.

"Sleep," she whispered. "I'll wake you in the morning."

Andrew closed his eyes. The exhaustion took him before he could think of anything else.

Jasmine watched him for a long time. She watched his breathing slow, watched his face relax, watched the tension drain from his features until he looked young and vulnerable.

She pulled the covers over them both as she

set an alarm on her phone. Then she gave him one last glance as she smiled, tracing her finger on his face.

"So cute."

She drunk sighed, closed her own eyes, her hand resting on the pillow between them, just close to his but they weren't touching.

In a few minutes, sleep came for her too.

The city hummed outside the window. The lights of Maryland City twinkled and dimmed.

And in room 412 of the Grand Hotel, two people slept, one whose mouth had been thoroughly used and the second person who had used her.