Moby Dick
I pull off his shaft fully, strands of thick spittle on his shaft as i continue to stroke him. my jaw was still sore, and my throat still raw.
Remembrance
One of the drones steps over me, dark compound eyes staring placidly as it lowers its mandibles towards my mouth, clicking and oozing a thick dark spittle that smells of battery acid and licorice.
You'll never know dear....
The heat of its breath pounded on ben's nose, he could feel the piercing hot spittle as it's open maw loomed closer to his head. cold. pure cold. a cloth across his face. water droplets slid down his cheek and began to soak into the pillow.
Lagomorphs -- Chapter 26: Afternoon with Singer
Singer wiped off the spittle that he'd intercepted. "do you expect to be gone long?" phlox asked. "flower's due pretty soon, isn't she? i bet sky wants to be back when she kindles. unless she wants to have some of gran'sir's kits, of course."
Tail execution
spittle dripped from the swollen tongues and dribbled down the flowing tunics the victims wore.
What Did I Get Into?
He doesn't hit the back of my throat, he is not too well hung, but he's musky and tastes like he hasn't washed his dick in a week...i want to gag, but that only creates a gurgle of spittle that pours out of my muzzle and messes with his groin...fuck...the
Iron Author #25: The Glorified Gluttony
He roared with all of the air in his chest, spittle and congealing blood splattering against the forward-most humans. they leaped back haphazardly, the weaker ones fleeing while the ones in the middle fell to the ground to get trampled on.
The Vixen that changed my Life 2
We shared a kiss, a thin spittle of saliva joined between our mouths. we kissed again, the shower droplets amplifying her beauty. my hand cupped her breast while the other stroked her hair.
Confessions of a Dragon: Chapter 9
The sick bastard tries to spit at me but only manages to flip some spittle on his chin. his breath largely still knocked out of him. then he laughed. yeah, he sat there laughing like a maniac. what a twisted messed up mind he must have. no matter.
They call it the present
The faded past was screaming now, spittle flying across the bus as it ranted. "i was worshipped and feared, revered and respected, i was your god and devil all in one!" it screamed it's face contorting in rage.
Screwed
"nnnn.nn.nnoo...knnnnnnn....oooottttt...." the boar managed, head hung low, taking it like a man into his beefy thick man-butt with a lot of deep huffs and a spittle of pre-cum hanging from his noisily masturbated screw of a cock. " nnghhhhh...."
Going for the Gold
Flecks of spittle and drool drip down on the boy's neck, some dripping onto his face freezing there along with his tears as the man takes away not only his innocence but his dignity.