The Secret Examination

Angelika sits across the table. Her eyes don't leave Lia's face. "Strip," she says. Lia stands. She pulls the thin cotton shirt over her head. Her small breasts catch the light, pale and natural, nipples already tight from nerves. She pushes the shorts down next of her ankles and steps out of them. Angelika nods at the dining table. "Lie back." The wood is cold under Lia's spine. She spreads her legs, knees falling open. Angelika moves between them. Her fingers are warm when they part the soft folds. She slides one inside, slow, deliberate. Another joins it. She works them deeper, checking every inch, pressing against the thin barrier that proves what she needs to know. Lia stares at the ceiling. She feels every movement, every twist. Angelika's thumb brushes her clit by accident. Or not. Lia's breath catches. Angelika keeps working, focused, thorough. Blond hair falls forward as she leans in closer. She stretches Lia wider, watches how the flesh yields, confirms the intact center with clinical precision and something darker underneath. She doesn't speak. The only sound is Lia's breathing and the wet pull of fingers moving in and out.