The tit-fuck. The slow, measured, 'I-am-using-your-body' rhythm of a man sliding his cock between the largest, softest, most milk-filled tits in the household. The shaft — twelve inches, the length meaning the head emerged from her cleavage on each upthrust — appeared and disappeared. The head pressed against her chin. Her lips. Her tongue.
"Suck it," he said.
Helena opened her mouth. Her tongue extended. The head — the thick, crimson, milk-and-cum-covered head — entered her mouth. She sucked. Her lips wrapped around the ridge. Her tongue swirled over the slit.
'Slurp. Mmph. Slurp.'
"Mmm—" she moaned. The sound was muffled. The vibration traveled through his cockhead, down his shaft. Her mouth — the nanny's mouth, the maternal mouth, the mouth that had sung him lullabies and fed him medicine — was sucking his cock while her tits milked his shaft.
'Slurp. Slurp. Mmm—'
