Low Light, Warm Skin

The night had started with wine and conversation, but by the time dessert was served, he’d pulled me onto his lap and made me wet with just his fingers tracing my thigh. Back at mine, he had me bent over the kitchen bench before I could even close the door. He didn’t just fuck me—he explored every inch of me like a man starved. Tongue, fingers, cock—he used them all until I was a trembling mess begging for more.