Better Than A Man

Lily Evans slips onto the heated table. She came expecting a man again, but Tawny stands there instead, towel thin as breath. Lily keeps her knees tight until Tawny’s fingertips trace a line inside her thigh that makes them fall open on their own. Long, unhurried licks meet shaved skin, each stroke flicked sharp then soothing. Lily’s hand drifts back without warning, catching Tawny’s wrist, silently asking for more. Tawny answers with two slick fingers sliding in while her tongue circles the swollen hood above. The room feels smaller with every wet sound. Lily tries to return the touch, but Tawny stops her, nudging her to the table’s edge. Side by side, they angle together—Tawny’s slick length, Lily’s searching hand—stroking until the air turns heavy with perfume and faint moans. Lily keeps begging to give back, yet Tawny keeps the pace until Lily shakes, voice cracked, swearing she’ll never book a man again.