Where are you going to cum?

She tilts her chin up, eyes locked on yours with that particular kind of patience that feels more like a dare. Her lips part slightly, tongue just visible at the edge — not performing, just waiting, completely sure of herself.

Your hand moves faster now, knuckles whitening, the tension in your thighs almost unbearable. She hasn't looked away once. That steady gaze makes the decision feel less like yours and more like something she's already decided for you.

Chest, throat, mouth — she'll take whatever lands wherever it falls, and the way she's watching you makes every option feel like exactly the right answer.