Tales of Iniquity ( A collection of short erotic stories)
On screen, Professor Lang clicked to the next slide: “The Bell Jar as semi-autobiographical confession.”
Sage pressed the flat of her tongue against Mara’s entrance—broad, wet, unhurried—and licked upward in one long, languid stripe. Mara’s hips twitched forward involuntarily. She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste copper.
Sage hummed approval against her—soft vibration that made Mara’s clit throb. Then she focused there: small, teasing circles around the hood, never directly on the swollen bud. Mara’s breathing turned shallow, controlled. She forced herself to uncross and re-cross her ankles, trying to look like she was just shifting position.