Backdoor Delight

Jadilica settles onto the couch in that pale little dress, skin like warm satin against the fabric. A flush rises across her collarbone. One hand slips beneath the hem and finds the wet heat between her thighs, fingers moving with quiet hunger. Her breath quickens. She draws slow circles until her hips rock against her own hand. Lorenzo appears and draws the dress higher, baring the modest swell of her breasts. His fingers take over where hers left off, slick and deliberate, parting her gently. When he adds the tip of his finger at her tighter entrance, she opens with a soft sound, then takes him in. Each stroke grows deeper, tighter, until she is breathing hard against his shoulder and the couch creaks under her restless weight.