The Tryst List - Episode 2

She knows we're watching. Spreads wider on the silk sheets, fingers slick between her thighs. One slow circle, then two. Her breath catches. The lamplight catches on wet skin as she arches, chasing that edge with practiced ease. Someone shifts in their seat. Another swallows hard. She smiles like she owns the room, hips rolling in lazy circles, cunt glistening under those long, deliberate strokes. The room smells like heat and money. She comes with barely a sound—just a sharp gasp and the twitch of muscle—then opens her eyes and meets ours, lazy, satisfied, already sliding her fingers back in.