With Tongue

I tell him this time he has to wear a glove. If I’m gonna open that wide, there better be a slick layer between skin and skin. He snaps one on: spit slicks my lips. His delicate finger tips my head up, collects the thin fluid from my puckered mouth. He kisses me. Pushes my head into the pillow, ass in the air, makes me hold my cheeks apart. He licks his fingers, kisses me.