With her positioned before him, Lon can look down at her upturned face and luminous blue eyes as she grasps at his hips and begins, hesitantly, to take more of his flesh in her mouth.  The salty pre-cum tastes almost sweet to her-- she wonders if this is because of what her aunt-- the one woman who'd been utterly frank with her about sex-- had said: the right men make certain things seem better.  Her experience in this area is dreadfully limited, but watching Laurin's expertise adds to the spark of confidence she feels and  encourages her as she glides her open mouth-- teeth carefully covered-- over his shaft.<br/><br/>She begins to fellate him in a similar fashion to what she's witnessing-- bobbing her head very, very slowly and stroking his base with her left hand while her right-- eager for something to do, and unwilling to miss the opportuity-- goes from a tawdry enjoyment of Lon's taut ass-cheek to a subtle exploration of the sac at the base of his cock.  She finds the warm, doe-soft skin enticing, so she squeezes it gently and rolls him like a set of meditation balls.<br/><br/>A few moments of this and she grows bolder, drawing more than just his head into her mouth, bobbing lower and lower onto the shaft, until she removes him and pants open-mouthed as she looks up, a silvery thread of saliva and precum trailing from her small, bee-stung looking lips to the tip of his shaft.<br/><br/>She grips his ass then and tugs him lower, shifting her hips so that she can outstretch her legs and settle onto the bare wood.  She's practically begging him to come down atop her, eager for anything she can be shown and feverishly hungry for more.