The moistness freshened his gait.

"You get naked, Channing."

Her camisole top rode up above her bounding jugs. Channing's mug munched mounds of thick milk glands, tips of nipple.

Her panties were slipping down, propelled by Channing's expertise in the matter at hand. Her knees came together.

The lace trim of her underpants dripped with her snatchwater as Channing brushed them to her ankles. Suzanne raised a limb.

Dangled her dank undies from her toes.

Channing rose.

Took the moist underpants between his teeth at the crotch.

He whipped his head back.

Sucking at them.

Tasting the dabs of brine Suzanne's snatch had left behind.

"You still have your clothes on, Channing," Suzanne said. "You afraid of me?"

Suzanne whooshed her top up over her head with a flex of her arms.

Her knockers rose and dropped. Boobs bounced several times and snapped back into place on her chest. But they didn't rest.

She rolled Channing back and pressed her tits to his chest. Rolled her thighs into him and gave his mouth a workout with her tongue.

"Guess you'll have to rape me," Channing said.

"Or give me head."

Suzanne groped forward and grabbed the lapels of Channing's smoking gown. She spread the front of the garment apart.

Saw his prick jump with a start.

The dick flew into her lips like a dart.

Dirking her yip.

Suzanne's mouth flipped up.

Taking the dicktip into the cavern behind her teeth. Squeezing on the knob.

Pestering it with her tongue.

"Eaugh."

"Had enough, Channing?"

"Sure."

"Want me to stop?"

"I beg you to."

"Ha ha ha!"

Suzanne suckered cock some more.

Channing ravaged her jaw. Humping, pumping, bucking like a bronco.

Kicking cock down her maw.

Shooting his ass back.

Letting her stretch out his dick by holding it tightly between her teeth.