P*rnstation
I looked up at him through my lashes, watching his face shift from confusion to raw lust as he took in the outfit: the tiny skirt riding up to expose my bare ass, nipples poking shamelessly through the cutouts.
“Merry fucking Christmas, baby,” I mumbled around his cock, the words vibrating against him. I started bobbing faster, hollowing my cheeks, sucking hard enough to make wet, sloppy sounds fill the quiet room. Saliva ran down his balls and onto the couch; I didn’t care.
Mark sat up fully now, one hand tangling in my hair. “Holy shit, look at you,” he rasped, eyes dark. “You dressed up like a naughty little Mrs. Claus just to suck my dick under the tree?”