Please Make Me Lesbian #11

She came on him in one long, slow push. He saw her eyes flicker, then steady, and for a moment she just stayed there with him deep inside her, both of them breathing like they'd run miles. Then she began to move. Her hips rolled forward and back, lazy and sure. Each stroke pulled him almost out and slid him back in, the wet heat of her tight around him. He kept his hands on her ass, feeling the muscle work with every roll, heat and skin, the weight of her thighs against his. Sometimes she leaned down to kiss him, her tongue tasting of gin and the cheap hotel soap she'd used an hour before. The rest of the time her gaze stayed on him, lids heavy, mouth open, small, helpless sounds slipping out when he thrust up to meet her. Sweat moved between them, the smell sharp and thick. Now and then she slowed all the way down, almost stopping, keeping him there until the pressure edged into something close to pain. Then she moved again, faster, working the same lazy stroke, the same pace, letting the pleasure climb until it caught them both off guard and made her clutch the sheet, every muscle tight, while his hands held fast to her ass and he gasped her name once before he came.