Loving from head to toes

Tomi texted Gitta because he had a free day and a particular itch she could scratch. She showed up in sneakers, but the shoes barely hit the floor before she noticed how hard he already was. She dropped to the edge of the bed, crossed her legs, and grinned like she knew the ending of the joke. First she took him in her mouth, tongue rolling lazy circles until his hips started chasing her. Then she leaned back on her elbows, lifted both feet, and closed those french-tipped toes around him—slow, deliberate, cool against overheated skin. Tomi’s breath caught; his palms dug into the mattress. When he couldn’t hold it, he painted her arches and toes white. Thick streaks slid down the curve of her foot and pattered onto the boards below. Gitta flexed her toes, spreading the mess, and let out a small, satisfied laugh. Tomi watched, dizzy, already thinking about next week.