Wickedly Twisted
God, it's filthy, so fucking disgusting, and I move my hips in time with his lips and mouth as he licks me.
I'm barreling along the edge. I'm right there, moaning his name. This is so wrong—I've never done anything like this before, not with a guy sitting like two feet away on the other side of a privacy screen—but now that Eros's down there between my legs, I can't stop. He purrs his delight and that only drives me wild. He's wining and dining me tonight—no pun intended—and I don't understand why, but I also don't care.
It feels good. Not just him licking my clit, but also being out with him, being seen with him.
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