“Every inch is earned. You keep your movements micro: a slight rock, a whispered ‘good girl.’ When she moans, you add the vibrator to her clit, turning discomfort into a slow burn of pleasure.”
She arched her back, the curve of her spine accentuating the curve of her hips, her breath coming in short, excited gasps. Her fingers tightened around your hair, pulling you deeper, encouraging you to maintain a steady pace. The world narrowed down to the feeling of skin against skin, the sound of her name whispered through your lips, and the rhythmic thump of the music echoing in the background. “Every inch is earned
“Thanks,” she whispered, a simple word that carried the weight of the entire night. “I needed this.” The world narrowed down to the feeling of
“Hey,” she whispered, her voice low and husky, the kind of tone that made the air feel thicker. Her hand brushed against mine, warm and steady. She leaned in, her breath tasting of cheap whiskey and something sweeter—her perfume, a hint of vanilla and musk. Her hand brushed against mine, warm and steady
I could feel the tension building, a low hum under the chatter of the bar. She turned her head, eyes locking with mine, and for a moment the whole room faded away. “Do you want to come back with me?” she asked, the question hanging in the space between us like a promise.
When the peak finally arrived, it crashed over us like a tidal wave, an intense, hot surge that left us both trembling, breathless, and sated. Erin’s gasp turned into a low, satisfied sigh as she curled against me, her head resting on my chest. The afterglow settled in, a soft hum that lingered like the echo of a favorite song.