“I–I’m coming,” he breathed, gripping the edge of the desk. I was on my knees as the first jet shot through him, my mouth taking over for my hand as I choked him down whole, pumping my face back and forth relentlessly. “Shit,” he cried with some restraint for the situation we were in. He clamped his hands over my head, undulating into my mouth, no longer being a passive participant. Voices filtered in from a distance, and I fully expected him to pull away, but his orgasm was beyond his control, beyond his need for self-preservation.
