NaNo Day 12:
Viking-2—0 words
TW—0 words 😕

While I’m busy making up for the words I didn’t write yesterday, enjoy this excerpt from Bad, Bad Girlfriend. Here’s what happens when a desperate woman goes a little too far to get her man’s attention (with the help of a magical pair of stilettos).

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Jolie heard the music, tried to catch the beat, but she’d never been so scared, so embarrassed in her life.

She knew she’d made a huge mistake the minute she’d entered the stripper’s dressing room. Lexie had ushered her in after Guppy, the skinny, bespectacled manager of the strip club, let them in the back door and showed them to the women’s dressing room. She already wore her costume under a tightly belted trench coat, but getting her first up-close look at the other women awaiting their turns on the stage made her lose her nerve.

She turned back toward the exit.

Lexie stood behind her, her arms crossed over her chest. “No you don’t. Not after I paid him a hundred dollars to let you do this!”

“You paid him?”

Lexie shrugged. “He prefers professionals, but he’s not above a bribe.”

“Great. You had to pay him to let me take off my clothes. Get out of my way.”

Lexie’s chin firmed, and her eyes narrowed into the meanest look her friend could manage. “You talked me into this. You convinced me this was a good idea. No way are you going to chicken out now.”

“They’ll laugh at me,” Jolie whispered furiously.

The other women, even the curvier ones, weren’t as well-padded.

One the women nearest them, eyed Jolie in the glass as she applied a wide streak of eyeliner. “We’ve had big girls before. Some of the men prefer ’em. Give it a go, hon.”

Jolie didn’t appreciate the advice and straightened her spine, ready to walk right through Lexie if she didn’t get the hell out of her way.

Lexie lifted her chin. “You want a ring, remember? A commitment. You want him to notice you, know you’re desirable for more than your cupcakes.”
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If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
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The name of yesterday’s winner is at the bottom of this post.

Well, I’m running out of days to show you all the snippets of wolfdom I have in this series, but here’s another where the were isn’t the good guy. And since you’ve been good, there’s a nasty bit of ménage to wash it down with. 😉

Remember, tomorrow’s the day A Long Howl Good Night releases!

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“…Delilah Devlin is a wonderful author and First Knight is a good example of her amazing skill with the written word. This novella pulls you into the life of Mattie. She is a sweet character with a huge stubborn streak. I love the way she is such a strong woman, she just takes charge of things other people would lose hope about. Garon is a super sexy warrior that is just full of surprises. All the characters come to life with their vivid descriptions. The whole story is full of action. With great sex scenes throughout the entire story. This is a tale of deep, true love with a little something extra! I enjoyed First Knight and think you will too!” 5 Hearts from The Romance Studio

“Delilah Devlin creates a world that effectively meshes the genres of paranormal, romance, and a bit of history into a story that keeps the reader enchanted from beginning to end…” 4 Stones from Siren Book Reviews

“Ms. Devlin gives the readers what they want and so much more. I loved First Knight and it rocked my world.” 5 Angels from Fallen Angels Reviews

While hiding her true identity, Maddie must seduce the mysterious Lord Garon to cement their marriage contract to ensure she won’t be returned into her lecherous stepfather’s care.

Fresh from Crusade in Palestine, Lord Garon has a secret he must hide, a hunger that must be fed, and a dark and uncertain future. Having shed himself of a fiancée he never met, he’s home to lick his wounds. The only thing he wants is a warm-blooded meal—but the new housekeeper is strangely insistent on giving him much more.

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She stared at Garon then glanced at Raymond, whose body was readied for her. His reddened cock thrust straight up from a thatch of dark hair. Every sharpened edge of his body and face reflected a powerful, primitive need.

He was so like her husband. In every way.

Garon didn’t want her to feel guilt for her pleasure. Maddie didn’t want him to worry that she wasn’t grateful for all the thought he’d given to her future happiness. And she certainly didn’t want Raymond thinking there would never be room in her heart for him. She only hoped he’d understand that, for now, Garon held precedence.
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If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
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The name of yesterday’s winner is at the bottom of this post.

I like playing with my heroes. Giving them huge problems to overcome. Alex has two huge problems—how to save his brother Max from his were-clan and how to get the girl who’d loved Max to trust another man.

So along the way he does a couple of unsavory things. You tell me—does he go too far? Read on!

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”You will be shocked, surprised, and crying before you get to the last page.” 5 Angels, Fallen Angel Reviews

“A paranormal experience reader’s won’t soon forget, with very sensual characters and a terrific plot…”4 1/2 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

After the death of one of the members of the super-secret police unit aligned with the Vampire Council in southern Florida, werewolf Max Weir becomes the chief suspect. Sure a greater villain has used a were-clan’s hatred of vamps to strike against the unit, Max travels to the mountains of North Carolina to seek the truth and hopefully renew the centuries-old truce between the weres and vampires.

Alec Weir has a problem on his hands. The new sheriff on Dark Mountain must walk a fine line between upholding were-clan laws and saving his vamp-loving brother from certain death. Alec must find the traitor in the clan responsible for the attack on the vampires or watch his brother die. If that wasn’t enough, his chosen mate, Stasia McGwyre, seems to still hold a candle for Max.

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With his hackles rising, Alec eyed his older brother, barely sparing a glance for the vampire at his side.

Is he so arrogant he thinks I won’t kill Garcia where he stands? Yeah, he knew who the vamp was—he’d shared a beer or two back in the days before Joe joined the fanged brotherhood. Before he’d become “the enemy”. But he could dust the bastard later. Instead, he narrowed his gaze at Max.

What was Max thinking, entering were territory when he’d aligned himself with the other camp? He’d fucked a vamp female and not by accident. He decided to cut him where it hurt. “Put the vamp in the pit,” he growled, looking over Max’s shoulder to his deputies.

“Back off!” Max glared behind him, halting the deputies, then shared a charged glance with his buddy.

That little look riled Alec even more. Max had chosen an enemy over family. “You aren’t in charge here,” he said, his voice low and lethal.

Max’s eyebrows lowered, and his shoulders bunched. “This isn’t about us. This isn’t about The Wars either. It’s bigger, little brother. We’ve come to ask your help.”

Alec’s lips lifted in a snarl. Max’s life was in his hands—and he knew it by his wary stance. The knowledge was gratifying after the way Max had turned on him in Vero when he’d taken the battle into his own hands. But curiosity about Max’s “problem” and the need to prolong the satisfaction had Alec raising a hand to stay the deputies surrounding the two interlopers. “Put them both in the pit.”

Max’s hands curled into fists. “We don’t have time for this shit.”

Alec snorted. “Sure you do.” He nodded to Todd and another deputy who clamped handcuffs to the men’s wrists.

He was disappointed when neither resisted. So rather than stay there and let Max’s frustrated glare undermine his authority, he swept past them and strode down the long aisle to the doors and out into the parking lot.

Darkness had fallen, and a hot breeze stirred the trees.

A pickup turned into the lot, lights arcing, and his body roused instantly—urgent and hard. Stasia.

The driver’s door opened and slammed, and Stasia’s light footsteps slapped the pavement. She drew around the end of the pickup and planted herself in front of him, hands on her hips. Her dark gaze pinned him and fevered color filled her cheeks. “Is it true? Did Max bring a vamp here?”

Alec smothered his irritation she hadn’t bothered to offer him a greeting first before launching a conversation about Max. The oversight only reminded him that once, a long time ago, Stasia had shared his brother’s bed, too. When he’d been top dog.

Alec ran a finger along her cheek, his gaze falling to her mouth and that full upper lip that formed a permanent pout. “Are you asking because you’re curious or because you’re worried about your old boyfriend’s safety?”

She slapped away his hand. “He’s fucking a vamp! What interest would I have in him now?”

Her vehemence sounded a little forced to his ears. Alec gripped her upper arms and dragged her close, bending to glide his lips along her cheek. “I don’t know. Why are you so hot about it?”

She stiffened. “I’m not. I just can’t believe he’d be so stupid.”

“Forget Max. Run with me tonight,” he whispered.
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If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
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The name of yesterday’s winner is at the bottom of this post.

In case you didn’t know, I have this whole My Immortal Knight series with Ellora’s Cave. My first MIK book sold in 2003, and I’ve been lazily adding to it as I go—in between a whole lot of other books. I can’t get away from the MIKs, because I love them so much.

The second of the MIK books that highlighted werewolves was Relentless. It’s one of my favorite stories because the hero is so very intense, so completely alpha. You’ll see what I mean.

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“RELENTLESS has suspense, intrigue, and surprises that grab your attention and never let you go until the last page.” 5 Stars from JERR

“A wickedly funny and passionate series, fans of paranormal erotic romance will enjoy RELENTLESS tremendously. Ms Devlin has done it again!” Romance Reviews Today

To supercop Max Weir, the only good vampire is a dead one. Since his special police unit integrated with vampires, he’s had to suppress his natural hatred to work side-by-side with the undead to hunt down and terminate the deadliest killers. Now the unit is hot on the trail of a new menace in town, a pack of werewolves prowling for vampires, who don’t care whether humans get in their way.

When a stakeout goes awry, Max enters a bar looking for a fight or a woman to help him blow off a little steam. What he finds is a winsome siren who has sexual appetites to match his own.

Vampire Pia D’Amato is on a secret mission to take out Max—either by seduction or by turning him. He’s become a liability to the Masters’ Council setting up jurisdiction in southern Florida, and she isn’t leaving until she’s done the job. But Max is more man than she bargained for and has a deadly secret of his own.

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Max pushed through the door of the bar determined that tonight he’d either get shit-faced or fucked. Which, didn’t matter. So long as he could blow off the steam that had been gathering a head since the botched mission hours before. The bar was a regular haunt—only a block from his house. If need be, he could crawl home. The smoky air, the loud grinding music, and the smell of stale beer appealed when he had an axe to grind.

The SU had swept the area for signs of the wolves that killed the vampires before turning on the humans in a mutilating frenzy. Their bloody paw prints led beyond the house to a gravel road where they’d disappeared. The pack had made their getaway in cars. This hadn’t been a roaming band’s target of opportunity, but a takedown.

The grim faces of the vampires telegraphed their worry. He hoped they were shaking in their boots. Not that the thought of a rogue wolf pack wasn’t just as unsettling to Max.

But seeing the cocksure Quentin lose his perpetual smirk was gratifying. Dylan had been grim-faced and pale. Perhaps the bastard saw his own fate in the house.

However, Joe’s silence had been the most telling. He hadn’t looked the least bit surprised.

Max made his way through the tables ringing a small dance floor. The place was nearly empty, save for the men hovering near the bar for the night’s last drinks. The tension in his shoulders knotted tighter. All it would take would be one smart-ass comment. He hungered for an excuse to drive his fist through something.

The crowd parted, and a flash of a slim white ankle snagged his attention. Every trace of anger, bitter regret, and frustration coalesced into a single, burning need.

The men blocking his view shifted, and the ankle drew his glance upward to a bare knee. The woman’s legs parted, and one slid atop the other. Her foot sawed up and down, and a slender, functionless sandal dangled from the tips of her painted toes. God, he wanted to help her lose the shoes altogether.

He advanced toward the men standing between him and his goal. Their faces registered annoyance for only a moment before they stepped aside. The hard hunger that rode his belly must have turned his face into an implacable mask.

As he drew near, her shape was revealed one tantalizing curve at a time. Sweetly turned hips were clothed in a stretchy black skirt that ended at the top of her thighs—not a hint of underwear marred the smooth fit. Conveniently tied behind her neck, a miniscule top bared the gleaming, supple skin of her back and midriff—again, no sign of a bra. Her nipples puckered invitingly against the black fabric that barely contained the apple-like curves of her small breasts.

Finally, his gaze rose to her face. She could have been a whole lot less than appetizing, and he’d still have wanted her on the merits of that ride-able frame. But her face only made him more determined to have her.

Large, doe-like eyes, framed by thick lashes, blinked as she caught his stare. Her upper lip was a fraction fuller than the lower and inspired delicious, succulent fantasies. Her face was round, her jaw small, and a thumbprint dimple carved her chin into two delicious halves. His tongue itched to slide along that little notch.

As he reached the bar, he drew a deep breath, eager to catch the scent of her perfume. He wasn’t disappointed. The woman smelled like sex. Hot, nasty, spicy sex.
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If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
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Rather than whine again today about my lack of progress with my current book, I’m going to start getting you revved up for the new book coming your way on October 27th. It’s set in the Immortal Knights’ universe—a werewolf story featuring wolves from Dark Mountain, North Carolina.

Since I have four days, I thought I might remind you of furry highlights from books past. This first excerpt is from All Knight Long, originally published in March 2004.

(Psst! For those of you waiting on pressies in the mail, I do have a few more prize packages to prep for mailing, but I’m almost done!)

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“Vampires, werewolves, and babies — oh, my! ALL KNIGHT LONG is a sensual and thrilling ride into the world of the paranormal.” Romance Review Today

A member of an elite police unit sworn to hunt vampires, Joe Garcia’s life is turned upside down when he’s transformed into one. On a quest for a cure, his search brings him to New Orleans in a last ditch effort to recover his humanity.

Professor Lily Carlson, a renowned expert in vampire lore, has a “condition” of her own. Her sexual libido has been in hyper-drive for months. Her only defense is to hide behind her glasses and tweed suits and stay as far away from men as possible. However, she’s thrilled to discover vampires really do exist when Joe shows up on her balcony.

Although Joe deflects her attempts to make him a case study and confirm a few vampire statistics, he is drawn by her powerful allure. When werewolves join the chase and track her through New Orleans, Joe’s cop instincts tell him there’s a mystery to solve. Intent on protecting her, he must seek help from the last vampire on Earth he wants to ask. While his hopes for deliverance from his fate dwindle, Lily’s life is forever altered by an unexpected “inheritance”.

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“Now, Miss Lily. I would read your cards.” Madame Leveque slid the deck across the table toward her.

Joe slid from the chair and held it out for Lily. Lily sat and carefully shuffled the deck, before handing it back to the old woman. Joe placed his hands on Lily’s shoulders and he felt some of her tension ease.

Again, Madame drew three cards. As soon as the first was turned, all three people leaning over the table laughed.

“The Queen of Wands! Appropriate, non? A woman of passion and energy. You are fond of nature—wild things, yet you are practical.”

The second card brought the tension back. A man dangled by his foot from a rope that hung in the air.

“The Hanged Man. Dis indicates you’ll experience suspense and change. There may be sacrifice for great gain, or a search for inner truth. A change in point of view may be needed.”

“But what does that mean?” Lily asked.

Madame settled back in her chair and folded her hands on her stomach. “Your choices have brought you to dis point. Now it is up to you to gain wisdom from your search for truth.”

Lily shook her head, but Joe squeezed her shoulders. He wanted to see the next card.

Madame’s hands remained on her belly and she smiled at Lily. “Turn the next one, my dear.”

Lily reached a tentative hand to the card, and Joe had to smile. For all her professions of belief in empirical proof, she was enthralled. She flipped the card.

A beautiful woman blended two bowls of water into a single stream.

“It is called ‘The Star’ and represents the blending of the past and present. An awareness and acceptance of two worlds.” Madame glanced pointedly between Lily and Joe.

Feeling a little mesmerized, Joe murmured, “Thanks, Madame.”

She nodded her acceptance, and then swept her hand toward the sofa. “Please, take a seat and we’ll talk. “

Joe held his hope in check and sat down. Dragging a hand through his hair, he tried to figure out a place to begin.

“Joe wants to be human again.”
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Did you know that it’s National Boss Day? Why on earth would they make it a Saturday where you wouldn’t see your boss to tell him you appreciate him?

It works well for the Raelies of the world who only have to slide beneath the covers to show their bosses just how much they care.

In honor of all the bosses out there…

“…PLEASING SIR is a hot number. I loved how both of these characters suffered unrequited lust, only to find out they both were wanting the same thing. The way Raelie is so determined to get her man even as she becomes the submissive woman he wants her to be. Add in the sexy ménage a trois scenes and this is one tantalizing tale that will leave you panting for more.” Coffee Time Romance

One adventurous little submissive is just what the bosses need…

Raelie might be a submissive in search of just the right Dom, but she’s not the kind to sit back and wait for the right man to happen. When she gets the chance to fill in as Bryce Caldwell’s executive assistant, she decides some subtle seduction is needed to see if he dominates the bedroom the same way he does the office.

Bryce can’t keep his mind off the sexy blonde sitting just outside his office. Especially not after the security cameras in the copier room catch Raelie “misappropriating” office property. A little disciplinary action leads to a whole lot of complication while he tries to find out whether she’s the right assistant to fulfill a special vacancy. Add a second round of interviews, and suddenly, Bryce is finding out he’s not the only one who’s not sure who’s really in charge.

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Note for Readers: You must be of legal age in your country of origin to read this excerpt.

Raelie bent to retrieve her purse from the bottom drawer of the EA’s desk and slipped inside the panties and the copies she’d made.

Bryce’s office door opened, and she straightened, knowing her face burned. She hoped he didn’t intend to stay much longer, because she needed to get into the online copier folder and delete the pictures of her pussy.

“Do you have a minute, Ms. Wood?” he said, his words sounding clipped.

“Of course, sir,” she said breathlessly, still horribly aroused. She’d wiped the copier glass with her panties, but knew she’d have to return with some Windex. She’d gushed arousal as the machine vibrated and heated beneath her bottom. She’d imagined Bryce looking at the pictures of her cunt, and she’d been transported.

His face looked so stern as she passed him upon entering his inner sanctum that she faltered for a moment, wondering if she’d been caught after all. However, Morgan sat on the dark leather couch inside. Surely, this was all about business. He wouldn’t chastise her in front of another man. “Is there anything I can do for you before I leave, sir?”
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This is a quick fly-by today. Have to run. Want to get a pedi/manicure this AM. Have to buy some travel-size toiletries to pack for my trip. Just two days to Ohio! ~DD

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“…Loved the characters, loved the conflict, loved the scorching hot sex…I do give high praise to Ms. Devlin. Her writing leaves me breathless and her heroes are simply delicious.”
9 of 10, Seriously Reviewed

He didn’t know the nightly peepshow was just a naughty invitation…

Garrett knows what he’s doing can get him into trouble, but he can’t help himself. Every night, as he arrives home, the blonde across the alley gets busy with her boyfriend with the blinds open. He’s spent the past two weeks getting an eyeful and falling deep into lust.

But when Garrett sees a man in a black ski mask sneak into his sexy neighbor’s bedroom, he doesn’t know he’ll be the one captured.

Jayne has a nice life with a nice lover who sees to her every need, but she’s still drawn to the lonely man across the alley. She’s been sharing her deepest fantasies with him from afar, but is ready to up the stakes. When she talks Richard into enacting a dangerous scenario, everything works out as planned. Only Garrett’s not happy about being played. And he’s got reservations because she already has a lover and he’s not into threesomes. Guess she’ll just have to convince him otherwise.

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Tuesday

They were going at it again, and he was gonna get arrested. Which would be pretty damn embarrassing, considering he was cop.

Like clockwork, the couple across the alleyway started banging the minute his car pulled into the garage.

The street along the back of the parallel rows of one-story houses wasn’t much of a buffer. Driveways spoked off the narrow, paved road. Only twenty feet separated his garage from the bedroom window across the way.

Last night, he’d loosened the garage light bulb to make sure it didn’t give him away when the door slid up. Tonight, he flicked his car’s overhead lamp switch off so that the light wouldn’t beam the moment he exited. Carefully, he closed his car door, pushing it with his hip to muffle the click as it locked, walked around to the back then sat with his butt against the trunk to watch the show.

They had to know anyone walking by could see every damn thing—every drop of sweat, every short curl of pale blonde hair. She faced the window, clutching the bottom windowsill, her breasts bouncing every time Boyfriend slammed her ass.

God, her tits were Grade-A prime. Cherry nipples, topping creamy mounds.

Her blue eyes closed, her mouth rounded, and he knew when she came because she always wore the same expression—her cheeks growing rosy, her eyebrows drawing together tightly and the corners of her mouth curving like the cat that licked the cream.

And if the wind hadn’t been whistling through the alley, he would have heard the whimper she gave when Boyfriend milked the last little contraction of her orgasm.

Fuck. He needed his own woman. Maybe she had a twin. Because he sure as shit wouldn’t be satisfied with anyone who wasn’t her, Jayne Peabody—Jayne Hotbody as he’d begun to call her. He’d had her plates run so he’d have a name to assign the woman who’d played a starring role in all his fantasies this past couple of weeks.

They’d finished and Boyfriend was pulling her into his arms, wrapping them around her belly and cupping those beautiful breasts as she snuggled against his chest.

It was time to leave. The show was over for the night.

Then her eyes opened, and Garrett Masters could have sworn she looked right at him. He cussed softly, straightened and raised his arm, pulling down the garage door and shutting off the sight of her mouth stretching into a wide grin.

* * * * *

Wednesday

This time he was ready. He popped the beer top, lifted his drink into the air to silently salute them, and decided to watch the goings-on across the way like a spectator sport. He’d even devised a scoring system.

Ten points for the first orgasm. Five to fifteen for each successive multiple, depending on how hard Boyfriend had to work. But Jayne didn’t need much encouragement to slam quickly through three. All her partner had to do was angle her face toward the window and her eyelids drooped, her kitten smile curled.

Boyfriend turned her toward the bed, bent her over, and Garrett straightened because this wasn’t a view he’d had before. Her pretty white ass, sweetly curved, her dark pink sex framed between her closed thighs. Fuuuck!

Boyfriend walked out of sight then returned with leather straps.

Garrett swallowed down the beer and crushed the can in his fist.

Boyfriend bound her legs together and strapped her hands to the sides of her thighs, forcing her to remain bent. Then he tied a blindfold around her head.

Jayne’s bottom wriggled, but moisture shone on her sex, dribbled down the backs of her thighs. And that was before Boyfriend bent to pick up something from the floor.

When he straightened, he brandished a short riding crop.

“Fifty,” Garrett breathed, his stomach beginning to roil as he watched the other man swat her buttocks in quick succession, leaving reddened welts, which she apparently enjoyed by the loudness of her groans and whimpers. However, when he dropped the whip and turned her toward the window, tears streaked down her cheeks from beneath the blindfold.

Garrett stiffened, ready to charge over there and break it up. But Boyfriend gripped her hips and forcefully slammed against her buttocks, thrusting deep. Her lips rounded, tears trickling into her mouth as she came.

Garrett shuddered, his breaths coming quick, wondering what the fuck he was doing watching this, watching another man torture a woman into orgasm, his own body slamming toward a climax that shocked him with its ferocity.

Boyfriend removed the blindfold. Jayne’s eyes opened, gleaming through the darkness, seeming to pull him deeper into her twisted, kinky play.

This wasn’t for him. He’d never laid a hand on a woman and damn sure couldn’t stand by watching it. He couldn’t do this anymore. The sweet, funny tenor of the sessions had changed to something darker, something grim and decidedly too rich for his blood.

Before they’d finished, he slammed the door down between them.

* * * * *

Thursday

“For the love of…”

He tried to keep his gaze averted this time, hadn’t bothered sneaking out of his car. But one glance and he was caught.

Boyfriend’s tall, lean body was turned sideways and he held his cock in his hand.

Jayne Hotbody stuck out her pink tongue and licked around the crown, and then clasped her mouth around it and sucked.

Boyfriend’s eyes closed tightly and he fisted himself, pumping as she bobbed forward to meet his fingers, then pulled away.

She braced a hand against his hip then turned to give Garrett one of those kittenish smiles, her blue eyes seeming to plead for him to watch. Was this her way of apologizing?

Did her boyfriend even have a clue what she was doing?

Garrett’s day had been a ball-buster and the last thing he’d wanted was to be left with an aching hard-on no amount of one-handed pocket pool could relieve, but she seemed to be inviting him to join. To watch as she blew Boyfriend and teased the hell out of him.

Well, hell. He was tired of watching and being left aching. He opened his utility belt, unbuttoned his pants and eased down his zipper. When he drew out his cock, he stared down at himself, musing that this time he really would get arrested with his dick in his hand.

Then he glanced up.

Jayne wasn’t smiling. She was licking her lips, her chest billowing faster. She grabbed Boyfriend by the hips and turned him so she could blow while she watched Garrett.

Her gaze didn’t leave his cock as he began to work himself. He gripped his shaft firmly, gliding his hand up and down, sliding his thumb over the top of the crown at the end of every pull.

Watching her watching him and blowing What’s-his-face was more intimate than anything they’d shared before. He felt more connected, as if he were having sex with her instead of jerking himself off in the out-of-doors while he played the Peeping Tom to his naughty neighbor.

Boyfriend gripped her head and flexed his muscular hips forward and back, stroking into her hot little mouth. Garrett dropped spit to feel moisture and imagined her lips surrounding him.

Tension gripped his balls and he rocked on his heels, forward and back, while his arm tensed and pistoned faster.

When he came, white cum spitting from his dick, he glanced up to catch her suctioning, swallowing boyfriend down with his head flung back and his flanks quivering.

Hot damn…

He stepped back, reached for the handle and slammed the garage door down.