Havin' a good time

Zuzana is the kind of girl you find yourself thinking about between meetings. She laughs with her whole face and always has something smart or filthy to say. The moment she leans in, lips brushing mine, my head tips back and the world goes quiet. Soft and slow at first, then deeper, wetter, hungrier. Her hand slides over the thin lace between my legs and I open for her without thinking. My fingers tug at the strap of her bra, pulling it down until her breast spills into my palm. She gasps against my mouth, hips pushing forward. We’re both still half-dressed, blonde hair tangled with brunette, stockings rolled halfway down our thighs. The laugh we shared a minute ago turns into a broken little moan when she slips two fingers inside me and curls them. I bite her shoulder. She giggles, then moans louder when I slide my hand between her legs in return. Our bodies press together, warm skin, damp lace, the faint click of a clasp coming undone. Nothing else matters except the way her tongue tastes and the heat pooling low in my belly. Every stroke, every kiss, pulls us deeper into that dizzy, perfect space where nothing exists except the two of us and the slick, perfect rhythm we fall into.