Teasing His Desires

Mary Bambola sits there like a woman who knows exactly what she wants—hard and waiting. She hooks Kristof with those sharp brown eyes, then drops her feet in his lap like dessert before dinner. Toes flex, press, circle, and she feels him stiffen under the arch of her foot, slow at first, then quick. A lazy smirk pulls at her mouth. When he's throbbing hard enough to stretch fabric, she swings a leg over and sinks down, inch by slippery inch, until he's buried to the hilt. The bed creaks, her hips grind, and every thrust lands like a promise she plans to keep.