Tales of Iniquity ( A collection of short erotic stories)
Marisol’s hands carded into her hair, not forcing, just holding on.
“Fuck—so good—your mouth—”
Aisha hummed around her, hollowed her cheeks, bobbed faster. One hand cupped Marisol’s balls, rolling gently; the other stroked what her mouth couldn’t reach. Marisol’s hips started to rock—small, helpless thrusts.
“Close—baby, I’m—”
Aisha pulled off with a wet pop. “Not yet.”
She stood, kissed Marisol hard—letting her taste herself—then turned and braced both hands on the bench. She looked back over her shoulder.