calming, regular thing for her to do. Her lips dragged languidly down the back of the shaft. In spite of having disappointed her mistress before, this was still her place. She turned her head, catching the thick cumvein in a gentle trap between her lips. It reaffirmed her.
She had taken her usual position without any thought going into it. This was what she did every day, sometimes several times a day. It was second nature. One small hand wrapped partway around the base of her mistress’ thick length and the other cupped those large balls carefully, lifting just slightly. Her tongue ran flatly from below the middle of the shaft and up the side, the solid warmth supplanting into her own form slowly as she pressed lingering kisses down to the base, and then up to the head.
Tanya had never needed to have great technique before Isha, she had gotten by with feeling and love. Later on her technique had not been important at all, but that had changed. At first she had watched her mistress masturbate and then she had been told to replicate as much of that as she could, but with her mouth. Gradually, over weeks and months, she had progressed into what amount to a practiced milking machine.
First, her lips pushed down to envelop the crown. She withdrew and let her tongue curl around and almost hug the head before she pushed back onto it. She sank deep by her own measures, managing almost half of the hefty shaft before having to pull back. It was only then that she set up the diligent pace, bopping back and forth past the crown and down the shaft, stroking up and down that fat dick.
She started to gently massage her mistress’ balls, the stroking and cradling turning into slightly circular movements that ran counter to each other. Some things the human body just could not handle without some error, at least she could not. And all the while she bopped back and forth at a steady pace, her tongue lashing around, above and below the sensitive head. It had taken her a very short time during those first, hesitant days to notice that the focus was around the ridge of the head; that was where she insistently ran her lips past, up and down. Isha had yet to complain.
Minutes passed, the blindfolded pet occasionally letting a hard suck escape her lips. The smacking of lips filled the room with lewd sound for a short moment before it disappeared, the only sound that of Isha’s heavy breathing once more. Lately she had taken advantage of the slow progress of their morning training, pulling Tanya down to briefly choke her on the entire shaft as it pulsed, but not today.
Instead she pushed the girl off, hand fastening around the head as she erratically jerked herself to the finish. Tanya sat still, in place. It was rare, but not unprecedented, that her face was to be painted. Usually when a point was to be made or when Isha wanted her to look whorishly good. Today was almost certainly the former, but that did not stop her from insistently cradling and massaging the contents of those brimming balls as the shaft was pumped in front of her face.
It did not take long for her to register the changes that occur right before climax. Isha’s erratic movement and heavy breathing clued her in to what was coming. She instinctively closed her eyes. The blindfold caught what would have landed on her eyelids, but it was still habit.
She shivered quietly as the first creamy, viscous strands landed against her skin, clinging and only hesitantly running. She had always been impressed with the amount her mistress could produce, taking it as a compliment to her in some dark and quiet corner of her mind.
She was not disappointed this time either, Isha groaning, rhythmically emptying herself and thoroughly painting Tanya’s face; the strands flowed together to droop into large drops that quickly rolled over the girl’s cheeks and dripped onto her shoulders or chest. Tanya remained still, waiting. She had done the best she could; she had received her
She had taken her usual position without any thought going into it. This was what she did every day, sometimes several times a day. It was second nature. One small hand wrapped partway around the base of her mistress’ thick length and the other cupped those large balls carefully, lifting just slightly. Her tongue ran flatly from below the middle of the shaft and up the side, the solid warmth supplanting into her own form slowly as she pressed lingering kisses down to the base, and then up to the head.
Tanya had never needed to have great technique before Isha, she had gotten by with feeling and love. Later on her technique had not been important at all, but that had changed. At first she had watched her mistress masturbate and then she had been told to replicate as much of that as she could, but with her mouth. Gradually, over weeks and months, she had progressed into what amount to a practiced milking machine.
First, her lips pushed down to envelop the crown. She withdrew and let her tongue curl around and almost hug the head before she pushed back onto it. She sank deep by her own measures, managing almost half of the hefty shaft before having to pull back. It was only then that she set up the diligent pace, bopping back and forth past the crown and down the shaft, stroking up and down that fat dick.
She started to gently massage her mistress’ balls, the stroking and cradling turning into slightly circular movements that ran counter to each other. Some things the human body just could not handle without some error, at least she could not. And all the while she bopped back and forth at a steady pace, her tongue lashing around, above and below the sensitive head. It had taken her a very short time during those first, hesitant days to notice that the focus was around the ridge of the head; that was where she insistently ran her lips past, up and down. Isha had yet to complain.
Minutes passed, the blindfolded pet occasionally letting a hard suck escape her lips. The smacking of lips filled the room with lewd sound for a short moment before it disappeared, the only sound that of Isha’s heavy breathing once more. Lately she had taken advantage of the slow progress of their morning training, pulling Tanya down to briefly choke her on the entire shaft as it pulsed, but not today.
Instead she pushed the girl off, hand fastening around the head as she erratically jerked herself to the finish. Tanya sat still, in place. It was rare, but not unprecedented, that her face was to be painted. Usually when a point was to be made or when Isha wanted her to look whorishly good. Today was almost certainly the former, but that did not stop her from insistently cradling and massaging the contents of those brimming balls as the shaft was pumped in front of her face.
It did not take long for her to register the changes that occur right before climax. Isha’s erratic movement and heavy breathing clued her in to what was coming. She instinctively closed her eyes. The blindfold caught what would have landed on her eyelids, but it was still habit.
She shivered quietly as the first creamy, viscous strands landed against her skin, clinging and only hesitantly running. She had always been impressed with the amount her mistress could produce, taking it as a compliment to her in some dark and quiet corner of her mind.
She was not disappointed this time either, Isha groaning, rhythmically emptying herself and thoroughly painting Tanya’s face; the strands flowed together to droop into large drops that quickly rolled over the girl’s cheeks and dripped onto her shoulders or chest. Tanya remained still, waiting. She had done the best she could; she had received her
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