Backstage with Esmerelda

I saw Esmerelda on set months back, alone under the lights. Knew right then I wanted her. Now she stands in front of me, fresh from make-up, smile sharp as a blade. I slip my fingers along her hip and feel her shiver. She answers by hooking one leg over mine, pulling us closer, until our breath mixes and my blond hair falls across her darker strands. The first kiss lands soft, the second greedy. Her mouth opens. Her tongue meets mine. My hand finds the slick heat between her legs. She’s already wet. Two fingers slide in slow, curl once, and her knees buckle. She drops to them, lips parted, waiting. I guide her head where I want it. Her tongue circles. I bite my lip hard. Soon she climbs over me, hair swinging like a curtain, and grinds down until we’re rocking together, slick skin on slick skin. The rhythm builds, faster, sharper. Each gasp is louder than the last. When she finally comes, it’s with her forehead pressed to mine, black hair tangled in my fists, both of us shaking.