I stay like that for a long time, working over him slowly, drawing it out, just because I can. I fucking love this, not just 'cause I'm good at it. Watching him come apart, the frantic movement of his hands on my shoulders, the way he arches under me, those sounds he makes...

That's what makes this something I could do for hours.

But after a while, I slip a finger past my lips alongside his cock, then I reach back behind his balls, the taste of him heavy on my tongue while I circle that ring of muscle with one damp fingertip.