Slalp... Slap...
A few Slaps from Karl cock landed on Emily's face. A faint trace of saliva clung to its surface, leaving a thin layer of stickiness. Emily sat cross-legged on the couch, watching him with quiet curiosity. Her phone rested on her lap, forgotten, as her gaze flicked between Karl and the dim light overhead.
Without a word, Karl leaned in and pressed his shaft against Emily's cheek.
She blinked but didn't move away. Instead, a soft pink dusted her cheeks, her lips parting slightly in surprise.
"...Karl?" Her voice was quiet, uncertain.
Karl said nothing. He dragged his cock down her cheek, tracing a slow, deliberate path toward her jaw. A faint, glossy streak was left behind, glistening under the apartment lights.
Emily let out a small, breathy laugh—not out of mockery, but something softer. Warmer. She didn't push him away, didn't frown or complain. Instead, her fingers clutched the hem of her hoodie, squeezing slightly.
