Emerald extasy

The emerald lingerie clings to every curve like it was poured on. I know what it does to men. One look at me in it and they follow me anywhere. Today it’s a hotel room. He’s on his knees between my thighs before the door even clicks shut. Tongue working slow, steady, slick. My nipples push against the lace, heavy and aching. I tug the top down, letting my tits spill free. Fingers slide under the matching panties, parting my soft, hairy lips. I rub in tight circles, hips rolling, pussy growing wetter with every stroke. He watches. I don’t stop. I keep touching myself until the first sharp pulse hits, then the second, thighs trembling around his face while I moan through it.