Playmate Profiles - Episode 7

She met me at the door wearing nothing but an open silk robe. Her skin caught the lamplight as she stepped aside. I followed her down the hall, eyes fixed on the gentle sway of her hips. The robe slipped from one shoulder. She didn’t bother to fix it. In the bedroom she turned, let the silk fall completely, and stood there for me to take in. Her nipples stood tight from the cooler air. She came close, tugged my belt loose with practiced fingers. The buckle hit the floor with a small sound. She pressed her bare breasts to my chest and pulled my shirt open. Her breath warmed my neck. When I tried to speak she placed two fingers against my lips, then replaced them with her mouth. Her tongue moved slow, deliberate. She guided my hand between her thighs. She was already wet, slick against my fingers as I stroked her. She ground against my palm, small sounds rising in her throat. I sank to my knees. She opened her legs wider. The first taste of her made me groan. She gripped my hair, rocked against my tongue, thighs trembling. Her climax hit quick and sharp; she came with a low cry, flooding my mouth. Before the tremors faded she pulled me up, turned, and bent over the bed. I slid inside her in one smooth thrust. She pushed back, taking me deeper. The pace stayed steady and hard. The only sounds were skin meeting skin and her quiet, repeated yes. When I felt myself close she reached between her legs, rubbed her clit until she shuddered again. That second squeeze finished me. I emptied into her, hips jerking, her name ragged on my breath. She stayed bent forward a moment longer, letting me feel every last pulse. Then she straightened, looked over her shoulder, and smiled like someone who had just claimed exactly what she wanted.