My Cum Eating Boyfriend Pretends He Doesn't Like My Outfit

He’s sulking on the couch after our fight, arms folded, acting like my black hair and lace corset do nothing for him. Fine. Let him nap. I slip into the bedroom, strip him down, and when he wakes up the cuffs are already locked to the headboard. His cock twitches the second he sees the corset again. I climb over his chest, grab it, and feed every inch past my lips until my nose presses his stomach. He bucks, but the straps hold. I work him slow and mean, tongue flat under the head, swirling around that circumcised ridge, drooling down his balls while he swears he’s still mad. Every time he tries to look away I take him deeper, throat clenching, spit stringing from my chin. He stops pretending once I swallow the first pulse; the second lands on my tongue. I crawl up, lips slick, and press them to his. He tastes himself and stops fighting.