Baroque Kinkiness

She steps out of a silk gown like it offended her. Lace slips down her hips and pools at her feet. The room smells of powder and candle wax. He waits on the edge of the bed, powdered wig slightly crooked, silk stockings stretched tight over his calves. She crosses to him barefoot, brown hair loose against her shoulders. No words pass between them. She sinks to her knees and takes him in her mouth, slow at first, then deeper, until her lips meet the base. He tilts his head back. One hand rests on her head, guiding but not forcing. When he’s hard and slick she turns, hands braced on the carved bedpost. He parts her and works himself into her ass with steady pressure. She breathes through it. Once he’s buried she pushes back, setting the pace. He reaches around and rubs her clit while he thrusts. She comes first, thighs trembling. He pulls out, strokes himself twice, and finishes across her face. Thick streaks land on her cheek and lips. She licks what she can reach, eyes half-closed, breathing still rough.