For a change

I told Yulia men were her only game. She laughed, but I kept pressing. She gave in. Now her tongue drags over me—slow, then sudden—heels pressed into my thighs as her breath breaks. Her fingers sink deep and pump hard. Sweat runs down her back. The sheets twist. She keeps going until I clamp around her and come, shaking. She looks up. Mouth wet. Eyes darker than before.