"I'm so sorry," Imari whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft thump of her heart.
Tears pricked her eyes, not just from the embarrassment of the semen on her face, but from the fear of having disappointed Ross.
She didn't know what to do, the situation overwhelming her. She gently licked the sticky substance from her face, her tongue tracing the contours of the droplets, savoring the taste.
Then, with a mix of delicacy and urgency, she scooped up the remaining drops with her fingers, her touch tentative but focused.
She sucked on each one, her expression intense, her desire to please palpable. The fear of his disapproval, of him thinking her clumsy or uncaring, gnawed at her.
She'd seen countless pornographic videos, each one reinforcing the idea that a woman should want every drop of a man's release, that it was a sign of devotion and desirability, and now, she wanted to prove she understood.
