Backstage with Candy

Candy's ready. She walks in wearing nothing but that sheer black slip, thin straps sliding off her shoulders, nipples already showing through the lace. I have waited months for this. She smiles like she knows it, then leans back on the leather couch and parts her legs without a word. I drop to my knees and push the slip higher. Smooth, pink, already wet. My tongue finds her clit in one slow lick, and she lets out a soft gasp. She tastes exactly like she looks—sweet, warm, irresistible. I spread her open with two fingers and press deeper, tasting every fold while she rocks against my mouth. Her hand finds my hair, guiding me, urging me. She moans when I suck her clit between my lips, then sighs when I slip my tongue lower and work her open. The slip rides up around her waist now, her body bare and glowing under the lights. I keep licking, slow and steady, until her thighs start to shake and she pulls me in tighter. She tastes like sin and I want every drop.