Butterflies

The butterfly on her lower back stopped me cold. Same ink as mine. Same line of flight, same angle. I didn’t wait. I waved her over and bent her open across the railing while the night pressed warm against us. Lube glistened at her tight rim, then I pushed inside with one smooth thrust. Her breath caught, her ring stretching around me, gripping hard, then softening as she let me deeper. I rocked into her with measured strokes, letting the weight of my body sink her onto every inch. Each push opened her further, every pull dragged a slick sound from her that matched my own low moan. Sweat slid down her spine. My fingers dug into her hips, pinning her for the rhythm I wanted. She pushed back, hungry, asking for more without words. When she finally came, the clench around my cock was fierce enough to drag me over with her.