After applying lube to both the strap-on and to Larry’s ass, she guided the strap-on to his entrance, and paused. He wouldn’t forget. Her touch was both a comfort and a catalyst, guiding him towards a realization that life’s beauty lay not just in its peaks but also in its valleys. He watched, entranced, as the dip of Cheyenne’s spine became his canvas, his lips tracing a slow, worshipful path over the curve of her lower back. Larry’s heart pounded like a drum, echoing through the caverns of his chest. He then licked the outside lips before moving to stab his tongue as deeply into her as he could. The sounds of their union filled the room, a chorus of pleasure that resonated in the walls, the scent of their intimacy lingering in the air, a heady perfume.
