A slight flick of my tongue. That’s all it takes. I’ve positioned myself under the milking table so I have a perfect view of his cock, dangerously close to my face, glistening with freshly warmed coconut oil. I can feel the warmth of him this near. A drop of precum is forming, a salty pearl of a treat that tells me that the way I tease him is working. I flick again, slightly faster, slightly harder, and hear a gasp. It’s working. A throb. Then another. Time to back off and just lightly breathe against his shaft, once again bringing a blissful frustration that he can’t deny. I’m going to absolutely ruin him in all the best ways, letting only a pitiful amount of cum escape him as a whisper of an orgasm barely crosses the threshold. I need that heightened sensitivity, that hardness, that longing, for after the milking table.