My guy has been patient for weeks while my braces settled in, but I'm done *******. The anticipation had been jolting me all week, each day bringing its own l*ttle spike of excitement as my mouth adapted to the alien feeling of shining brackets and raw, swollen gums. I’d been too shy at first, too worried the wires would hurt or cut, too new to the art of f*cking with a tinsel-lined mouth.

He never pushed, just waited and watched until the day I knelt between his legs, knees sinking into the memory foam, mouth already slick with anticipation. My lips were cherry-glossed and parted, tongue flicking out to savor the chemical sweetness, and with every new ridge of metal my tongue traced, I felt more wicked.

I wanted to make a show of it, to let him know that after all the waiting I was ready to use my mouth in every way he’d ever dreamed. My tongue circled the head of his c*ck, lightly at first, letting the metal click against the sensitive tip, and I could feel him twitch in my hand, his eyes going dark. The taste of him, salty and familiar, sent a shiver through my body. I looked up at him, lips stretched wide and eyes bright, as I slowly lowered my mouth over him, feeling the way he filled me—braces and all—until my nose was buried in his belly and my chin bathed in the smell of his skin.

Every time my mouth moved, the brackets made a faint, forbidden noise that only we could hear, like a secret code. The sensation was strange and new, each groove and edge catching on his flesh and giving me more to play with, and I reveled in it, sucking harder, wanting to test my limits. I squeezed the base of his c*ck with one hand, the other wrapped around his thigh for balance, and I could hear my own breath ragged, soft whines escaping even as I bobbed deeper and faster.

You'll see the exact moment my hesitation shatters into raw need: my tongue dragging hungrily up his shaft, nails digging into his thighs, my metal-lined mouth devouring him inch by inch while I moan around his c*ck, the brackets scraping against his swollen head as I take him deeper than I should.

Hear my l*ttle whimpers when my warm, slick mouth finally slides all the way down, my throat opening, my jaw aching in that delicious way. My tongue traces every vein, every ridge, feeling the pulse beneath the skin while my braces catch slightly with each movement. My eyes water at the corners as I look up through mascara-heavy lashes, silently begging. I'm dy*ng to know how hot his load will feel flooding these new wires, pooling in the metal crevices, dripping between my teeth.

Spoiler: it's massive, warm, and purposely aimed everywhere. Strings of c*m streak my glasses, drip off my chin onto the braces, and keep coming until I'm a sticky, smiling mess who can barely say "thank you." Real couple, real facial, no scripts, just the girl you wave to every morning proving she can still bl*w your mind—and everything else.

Braces Eye Glasses Boy-girl Braces and Bl*wjobs: Lone Star Angel in her First Messy Facial Since Getting Wired with C4s.com