Beckon Luke inside
From Create Your Own Story
Days gone bi (Talk | contribs) (Created page with 'You have your wand to Luke, begging him to come inside. You take a seat on the couch as you hear the door open. Luke walks in with a grin on his face. You smile and pat the couch…') |
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| - | + | Your fingers tap impatiently against the windowsill as Luke rakes leaves outside—his forearms flexing with each movement. A slow smirk spreads when he catches you staring. You motion him inside with a curled finger. | |
| - | " | + | The front door clicks open moments later. Luke strides in, smelling like sweat and autumn air, work boots leaving faint dirt trails on the hardwood. "You show off like that to all the gardeners ?" he teases, tossing his gloves aside. |
| - | + | You don’t answer—just drag him onto the couch by his belt loops. His laugh cuts off when your palm grinds against the straining denim over his cock. "Christ—" | |
| - | + | "Only the cute ones get this treatment," you murmur, popping his button then pull His zipper rasps down, and holy fuck—his dick springs free, thick and long . Your throat goes dry just looking at it. | |
| + | |||
| + | Luke’s calloused hand fists in your hair as you lick a stripe up his shaft. He hisses when you take just the head between your lips, swirling your tongue. "Fuck, your mouth—" | ||
| + | |||
| + | You sink deeper, gagging slightly before finding a rhythm. His hips jerk upward, forcing more down your throat. The taste of salt and precum floods your senses as suck and slurp on his rock hard member , spit dripping down your chin. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Luke’s groan is ragged. "Gonna make me blow if you keep—ah—doing that—" | ||
| + | |||
| + | Your only answer is to suck harder, fingers digging bruises into his thighs. | ||
[[Keep Sucking]] | [[Keep Sucking]] | ||
Current revision as of 21:19, 3 February 2026
Your fingers tap impatiently against the windowsill as Luke rakes leaves outside—his forearms flexing with each movement. A slow smirk spreads when he catches you staring. You motion him inside with a curled finger.
The front door clicks open moments later. Luke strides in, smelling like sweat and autumn air, work boots leaving faint dirt trails on the hardwood. "You show off like that to all the gardeners ?" he teases, tossing his gloves aside.
You don’t answer—just drag him onto the couch by his belt loops. His laugh cuts off when your palm grinds against the straining denim over his cock. "Christ—"
"Only the cute ones get this treatment," you murmur, popping his button then pull His zipper rasps down, and holy fuck—his dick springs free, thick and long . Your throat goes dry just looking at it.
Luke’s calloused hand fists in your hair as you lick a stripe up his shaft. He hisses when you take just the head between your lips, swirling your tongue. "Fuck, your mouth—"
You sink deeper, gagging slightly before finding a rhythm. His hips jerk upward, forcing more down your throat. The taste of salt and precum floods your senses as suck and slurp on his rock hard member , spit dripping down your chin.
Luke’s groan is ragged. "Gonna make me blow if you keep—ah—doing that—"
Your only answer is to suck harder, fingers digging bruises into his thighs.
