Vermouth

Eve poured vermouth into two chilled glasses, the sharp edge of it biting our tongues. We sipped slow. The liquor warmed our mouths, then spread deeper, chasing warmth straight between my legs. Her hand found my thigh. Fingers slipped higher. One light touch along my skin and heat shot straight through my spine. I set my glass down. I needed to taste her, right then. I pulled her dress up and spread her open. She tasted of vermouth and salt, hot on my tongue. She gasped and pressed closer. I kept her pinned to the counter, tongue moving in slow, hard strokes. She trembled. Her hips rocked against my mouth, eager for more. I slid two fingers into her, fucking her slow and deep, matching each push with a flick of my tongue. She was already soaked, clenching around me, soaking my lips and chin.