The Tryst List - Episode 2

He watches her. Always has. She knows it, of course. She turns her head just enough to show the curve of her neck, and he feels it in his gut. Their game is old, but it still burns. She walks toward the bed like she owns the silence between them. Each step makes her robe slide lower on one shoulder. The silk clings, then drops. No hurry. No shame. He stays where he is, hands loose at his sides, cock already heavy. She climbs onto the mattress on all fours and looks back at him. The invitation is clear. He moves. One knee between her thighs, one hand sliding up the inside of her leg until his fingers meet wet heat. She pushes back against him. He slips two fingers inside, slow and deep, thumb pressing circles over her clit. Her breath hitches. She rocks into his hand, greedy now. When he pulls his fingers out she makes a small sound of protest, but it turns into a moan when he lines his cock up and pushes in. One thrust, then another, deeper each time. Her hands twist in the sheets. He grips her hips hard enough to leave marks and fucks her like he has been waiting all night to do exactly that. They stay like that until she comes first, shuddering around him. He follows seconds later, buried to the hilt, spilling inside her with a low groan. After, he stays inside her for a moment, both of them breathing hard. Then he pulls out and watches his come drip down her thigh. She reaches back, touches it with two fingers, brings them to her mouth. Tastes him. Looks at him while she does it.