This was the beauty of mature women.
Ever since Harry had unlocked Hazel's body and awakened the desire within her, she had become utterly wanton, like a slut in perpetual heat.
She was as responsive as a bitch in heat, needing no instructions from Harry. Often, just a glance or a gesture was enough for Hazel to understand exactly what he wanted. She welcomed his attention with eager devotion, craving his touch, his possession.
Facing Harry's penis, Hazel, already a mature woman, displayed none of the shy hesitation of an inexperienced girl. Whether his cock carried any scent or musk, she would greedily suck it with full enjoyment, taking him deep into her throat, her soft, skilled tongue swirling and licking with unrestrained pleasure.
Her oral skills were refined, instinctive. Every suck was powerful, every swallow smooth, every deep-throat motion executed to perfection.
To Hazel, Harry's cock was a sacred object—no matter how she worshipped it, she never grew tired.
