Silk & Satin - Episode 8

She peeled the shirt off slow. His eyes tracked every inch of skin she gave him. Her nipples tightened in the cool air. He sat back on the edge of the bed and spread his legs wider, the hard line of his cock straining against his trousers. She stepped between them. He caught her waist, thumbs pressing into the soft hollows above her hips, and pulled her forward until her thighs brushed his. She reached down, undid his belt one-handed. The leather whispered through the loops. He lifted his hips when she tugged his trousers down. His cock sprang free, thick, flushed dark at the tip, a bead of pre-cum already sliding down the shaft. She wrapped her fingers around him, gave one slow stroke from root to crown. He hissed between his teeth. Her mouth curved. She sank to her knees. The carpet was rough under her skin. She licked the head once, flat-tongued, tasting salt and heat, then took him deeper until her lips met her fist. He groaned, fingers sliding into her hair, gripping, not guiding, just holding on. She worked him with steady rhythm—mouth tight, tongue pressing under the head on every upward pull. Spit slicked her fingers. He twitched against her tongue, breath coming quicker. She pulled off with a wet sound, stroked him twice, then stood. He reached for her, dragged her onto the bed, rolled her under him. Her thighs opened around his hips. He lined up, pushed in with one smooth thrust. She gasped. He buried himself to the hilt, hips grinding against her clit. He stayed there a moment, forehead against hers, both of them breathing hard. Then he started to move. Deep, measured strokes. Her nails dug into his back. Sweat gathered between their bellies. The headboard knocked the wall in steady rhythm. She tightened around him, legs locking behind his thighs. He drove harder. She came first—back arching, a choked cry breaking in her throat. He followed seconds later, buried deep, pulse after pulse flooding her. They stayed locked together, shaking, until the aftershocks faded.