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Seb tossed his head back with a gasp, his end unknotting with a snap on my tongue before hot, thin jets of funnel cake icing flowed out to soothe the sting.
As he reluctantly dragged himself from between my lips, the soft, slow hiss of Seb’s deflating cock kissed the side of my neck with air.
My brain might still consider Keane an unredeemable douchecanoe, but my body was ready to run through a field of flags as red as my namesake to get to him.
