Chapter 4: Kitchen Suck & Shower

Marcus Hale’s cock was already out before the front door even clicked shut behind him. He had barely made it two steps inside the Laurent kitchen when Sophia’s hands were on him. She had been waiting, naked except for the thin white robe she had thrown on like an afterthought, the sash hanging loose and ready to drop.

She didn’t speak at first. She simply dropped to her knees on the cool tile floor, both hands wrapping around his thick, veined shaft at once. Her fingers couldn’t meet on the girth—seven inches of heavy meat that she had to grip from base to tip, squeezing the sensitive underside with her palms. The first stroke made a wet, filthy sound, his own precum already dripping from the slit and coating her knuckles. She looked up at him with dark, hungry eyes and opened her mouth.

The moment her lips sealed around the head, Marcus groaned low and long. Her tongue swirled once around the ridge, hot and slick, then she took him deeper. Inch after thick inch disappeared into her throat until her nose pressed against his pelvis. She gagged once, wet and loud, but didn’t pull off. Instead she bobbed, cheeks hollowing, saliva running down her chin in shiny trails that dripped onto the floor. Marcus’s hands fisted in her hair, not guiding, just holding on as her throat fluttered and milked him.

She pulled off with a gasping pop, strings of spit connecting her swollen lips to his glistening cockhead. “Fuck, you’re huge,” she breathed, voice hoarse. “I need two hands just to stroke you.” Her fists tightened again, one hand below the other, sliding up and down in a tight, slippery rhythm. The wet slaps echoed off the cabinets every time she twisted her wrists at the head. Marcus’s hips jerked forward on their own, sliding his cock through her fists with obscene, squelching sounds.

Sophia moaned around him again, taking him back into her mouth until her nose buried itself against his stomach. She gagged harder this time, but pushed through, tongue pressing flat along the underside while her hands worked the base. The kitchen filled with the raw, wet noises of her eager sucking—wet sucking, loud gagging, the occasional pop as she pulled off to catch her breath before diving deeper. Her heavy breasts swayed with every motion, nipples brushing the cold tile and leaving faint wet marks.

Marcus’s head fell back against the counter, a broken moan tearing from his throat. He could feel his balls tightening, the familiar burn building at the base of his spine. But he was too far gone already. Sophia sensed it. She pulled off one last time, gasping, and looked up at him with filthy promise in her eyes.