Don't Tell My Parents

Eliza Jane perches on the exam table, swinging her legs as Dr. Dana Vespoli lectures her about birth control. The young beauty just smiles. Pills won't be required, she explains—she's never had a boy inside her and never will. Dana's eyes darken with sudden heat. She feels it. Eliza feels it too. She leans in, catches the older woman's mouth, and the room tilts. Dana lifts the girl back onto the table, hikes the paper gown to her waist, and drops to her knees. The scent of arousal hits her fast, sweet and thick. She parts wet folds with both thumbs and drags her tongue up the slit in a long, slow stroke. Eliza jerks, thighs trembling around Dana's head, breath catching each time that skilled mouth circles and sucks her swelling clit. Dana works patiently, sliding two fingers inside, curling them until the girl cries out and floods her tongue. When the orgasm eases, Eliza pushes Dana onto her back, drops between spread knees, and returns the favor—lapping at slick, mature folds, licking until Dana's hand fists in her hair and she comes hard against the young tongue.