Aristocrats' Afternoon Delight

The villa sits quiet, but not for long. Max answers the door in silk, Kattie leans against the marble in lace. Her dress hits the floor first—blonde hair loose, bare skin warm under his hands. She drops to her knees without a word, takes him deep, tongue slow then greedy. He groans, fist tangled in that bright hair. They move to the chaise, bodies open, nothing hidden. She straddles him, takes every inch, hips rolling like she owns it. He flips her, pushes her thighs wide, fucks harder now, skin slapping skin. When he pulls out she stays still, mouth open, eyes locked on his. He finishes across her lips, thick streaks landing on flushed skin and parted tongue. She swallows what she can, lets the rest drip, red lips glistening. Neither speaks. The afternoon light catches every drop.