The Artist

Elliott walked in with her portfolio pressed to her chest. She wanted to impress Jordan, to show her drawings were good. But once Jordan opened the book she only glanced at a few pages before pushing it aside. "These are fine," Jordan said. "But the body I really want is yours." Elliott's mouth opened but nothing came out. Jordan knelt closer, her fingers tracing the inside of Elliott's knee. When her knees parted the scent hit Jordan hard and real. Dark hair curled out around swollen lips, slick already from nothing but the waiting. Jordan's pupils bloomed black. She exhaled, slow and hungry. "You think I can't see how wet you are for me already?" Elliott tried to steady her breath. Failed. Jordan leaned in. Their first kiss hit like flint and steel, then their mouths opened together, slow at first then feverish. Jordan's hand slipped between her thighs, three fingers sliding deep on the first stroke. Elliott's hips jerked forward. She moaned into Jordan's mouth and ground against the palm. Jordan worked her open with relentless patience until Elliott shook apart on the studio floor. Only then did Jordan kick off her own jeans, climb on top, and ride her tongue until she came twice in a row, thighs trembling around Elliott's flushed face.