Just a few beverages....

Cayenne and I had maybe three drinks between us, but that was plenty to loosen our mouths and our morals. We caught each other’s eye across the bar and knew exactly what the night needed. When we opened the bedroom door we were already half-undressed. She shoved me onto the mattress and climbed on top, peeling my shirt the rest of the way before her mouth found my chest. Heat sparked under her tongue. I sat up, unhooked her bra, and let her breasts fall against me. My hands slid down, pushing the skirt over her hips; underneath she was bare. She rolled to her back and spread her legs without a word, fingers parting her own folds, showing how wet the evening had already made her. I sank between her thighs and put my tongue where her fingers had been. She gasped once, then pressed the back of my head to keep me there. The taste was sharp and unmistakable. While I licked slow circles, two fingers slipped inside—tight, slick, clenching around each stroke. Her hips rocked with the rhythm. Soon her thighs tightened and she came with a strangled little moan, shuddering against my mouth. Before the pulses faded I flipped her, pulled her to the edge of the bed, and pushed into her from behind in one smooth glide. Heat wrapped around my cock, slick and insistent. I gripped her waist and drove deeper, balls slapping skin with every thrust. Every time she pushed back I gave her more—harder, sharper. Sweat gathered at her spine. The headboard knocked the wall. I reached under, circled her clit with slick fingers; her second orgasm broke fast, her cunt squeezing so tight I nearly lost control. We finished with her on her stomach, knees still braced, my weight pinning her as I emptied inside her, pulse after pulse. Silence followed, broken only by breath. A small wet sound when I finally pulled out.