Cherry Smokes While Kurt Eats & Fucks Her Pussy

So, picture this—Kurt eats Cherry, and honestly, it was one of those nights where everything just clicked without us even planning it. I was sprawled out on the bed, lazily taking a drag from my cigarette, just watching him get this hungry look in his eyes, and it sent a shiver straight down my spine. He moved down slow, kissing my inner thighs before his mouth found me, and I swear I nearly forgot to exhale the smoke. That first lick was so deliberate, so teasing, that my hips instinctively bucked against his face, and he just laughed softly, gripping my hips to keep me still. He took his sweet time, tracing every fold until my toes curled and I had to put the cigarette out because my hands were shaking. Then he pulled up, wiped his mouth, and slid inside me in one smooth motion, hitting that spot that made my head fall back against the pillows. The way he moved was all steady, deep thrusts, keeping eye contact like he wanted me to feel every inch, and I just whimpered, completely lost in the push and pull of it. There was something so raw about the smoke mixing with our sweat and the sound of skin slapping skin, but it never felt rushed—just real and intense, like we had all night and we both knew it. When he leaned down to kiss me, I tasted myself on his lips, and that alone nearly sent me over the edge, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. The build was slow and cruel, in the best way, until we both came undone together, breathless and slick, and I just lay there grinning like an idiot while he traced lazy circles on my stomach. That vibe, with the burning cigarette forgotten in the ashtray and our heartbeat finally slowing down, is exactly why those moments stick with you.