Elegant extasy

We were about to head out, Regina and I. Cinema. That play everyone kept talking up. But the clock slipped. She stood there barefoot, robe half-falling from her shoulder. One tug and the silk gave up. Her breast slipped free, heavy and warm. I pulled her back by the waist before she could laugh it off. My hand found the hollow beneath her ribs, slid lower, inside. She caught my wrist—not to stop me, just to feel how deep my fingers went. Her breath hitched when I pressed against that slick spot inside her, quick little circles. She rocked onto my knuckles and bit the side of my neck, quiet. The play would start without us. I slipped the robe the rest of the way down, watched it pool at her feet like black water. Bent her over the edge of the dresser. Spread her open with both thumbs. Licked her from clit to the tight ring above, slow and messy, tasting the heat of her. She reached back, grabbed my hair, held me there until her thighs shook. I stood, lined up, pushed in while she was still fluttering. Deep. Hard. No warning. She braced against the wood and took every inch, groaning through clenched teeth. I fucked her like we had nowhere to be, and she fucked back like we were already late. Sweat ran between her shoulder blades. I licked it off, bit down where her neck met her shoulder. She came again, sudden, sharp, clamping around my cock so tight I nearly lost it. I pulled out, spilled across the small of her back, watched it slide down between her cheeks. She looked at me in the mirror, flushed, smiling, mascara slightly smudged. The ticket stubs stayed on the table, forgotten.