There was no doubting that Quentin was enjoying himself. He'd spent much of the last hours tormenting and controlling Zoey without any release for himself, and that put him firmly in need of a blowjob, a fuck, or both. That she was trying so hard and doing so well was certainly a welcome bonus, and he rewarded her by vocalising his pleasure. He would groan as she sucked and as her throat squeezed him; his body would grow tenser and tenser until - with a slight gasp - it the tension evaporated and let him have a moment of respite before he worked his way back to the edge all over again. Inevitably one of these sudden relaxes would come with the spurt of cum to back it up, but it didn't yet.<br/><br/>The feel of her eager and softly sliding mouth wasn't what was really improving his mood, though. That accolade fell in part to the crudely adorable way she gazed up, with her mouth flared so wide to accommodate his prick and loyal desperation in his eyes. He could see just by looking down how far she'd fallen, and how pathetically eager to please she'd become. It also fell in part to the unflinching control he liked to demonstrate over her, in form of both the hand resting on her head - not particularly pulling her, but certainly able to should the mood take him! - and in the instructions he growled down to her. Few of these were necessary but all the same he passed them on. "Gag for me" came one, giving him a few moments of listen to her throat trying to repel him. Another bade her put her hands behind her back, at which point he took control of her head to help it bounce along merrily for a few moments, before that lost it's interest and he let her resort to her former position. And then, of course, there was the occasional demand that she go faster or try to take him deeper, as though he had much more to give.<br/><br/>As the time past he grew more and more eager. His hips which at first were barely moving were soon thrusting eagerly and regularly, his hand gripping her hair so tightly it began to hurt. He pulled his shirt open to try and cool off, revealing his toned torso and the way it was gulping for air as a result as the constant contortions it was put through as his body began to roll. It was as emotive as his body had ever been in front of Zoey - even if the emotion was pure and unbridled pleasure - and it spoke volumes about how she was either drifting toward being improbably skilled, or that she'd worked into his good graces. Eventually this all culminated in the one thing it was always going to end with; his head flying back, his hips flying forth, and the mess of his cock rocketing out with enough force that more than a little of it was down Zoey's throat before she was even aware he'd released.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>