Lovely Lara

Lara Stevens appears at the doorway, the kind of woman who gets noticed. She looks straight at him, slow and certain. Her dark hair falls over one shoulder, and her curves push against the lace that barely covers her. She steps closer. The lingerie clings to every line of her body—tight at the waist, sheer over her breasts. He watches her move, the way her thighs catch the light, the way she smiles when she sees how much he wants her. She drops to her knees without a word. Her lips part, warm and wet, and she takes him in, slow at first, then deeper. Her hand wraps around the base, steady and sure. Each time she pulls back, her tongue traces the underside, slick and warm. She keeps her eyes on his, letting him see just how much she likes it. When she pauses, she presses her cheek to his thigh, breathing heavy, before taking him again. Every inch of her moves with intent, from the tilt of her hips to the way her fingers curl into the sheets. The room stays quiet except for the wet sounds of her mouth and the faint rustle of lace shifting over her skin. She stays on her knees, taking him deeper, the pleasure building in the way she moves—unhurried, but hungry for more.