Stair

I settle on the stairs, aware of your stare fixed on every curve. My breasts rise and fall with each breath. The climb ahead is short, yet I linger, letting the moment stretch. The cool step presses against my thighs. My hand drifts beneath the lace, parting the thin fabric to reach the slick heat between my legs. Fingers slide over swollen flesh, stroking, circling, gathering wetness with every pass. Pleasure builds quickly here, the hard edge of the stair digging just enough to remind me where I am. I press harder, breath catching, and the climb can wait.