SexArt - Episode 10

She steps inside and the door closes behind her with a quiet click. The only light comes from the tall lamp near the sofa, warm and low, catching the curve of her collarbone. He sits there already, shirt open, watching her cross the room without a word. She stops in front of him and lets the robe slip from her shoulders. It falls around her feet. Nothing else beneath. His gaze moves over her slowly, taking the small rise of her nipples, the smooth line of her belly, the neat shadow of hair between her thighs. He leans forward and places his hands on her hips, fingers spreading wide, pulling her closer. His mouth finds the inside of her thigh first, warm breath, then tongue, tasting the skin there before he works higher. When he parts her with his tongue she exhales sharply and reaches down, fingers threading through his hair. Her knees soften. He holds her steady, mouth working with slow, steady pressure, every lick deliberate. She rocks against him once, twice, before he draws back and stands. He turns her around. She plants her hands on the arm of the sofa. He steps in close behind her, one hand gripping her hip, the other guiding his cock between her thighs. The first push stretches her open. She pushes back to take him deeper, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the quiet room. He sets a measured pace, each thrust heavy and precise, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, thumb circling her nipple. She reaches between her legs to touch herself while he fucks her. Her breathing grows short, uneven. When she comes, her back arches and her cunt tightens around him in tight, pulsing waves. He follows soon after, burying himself to the hilt, groaning low against her shoulder as he spills inside her. They stay like that a moment longer, bodies pressed together, the light still low, the room still quiet except for their breathing.