Candy's new tattoo

I’d been thinking about Candy all week, wondering how long was too long. I knocked and waited, throat dry. When she opened the door, a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth and the sleeves of her robe slipped from one bare shoulder. She turned, let the silk drop, and the small, black silhouette of a cat came into view just above the swell of her ass. I stepped close enough to feel the warmth coming off her skin. The tattoo sat crisp against pale flesh, every curve of the cat stark in the light. She bent a little, weight shifting to one hip so the muscle beneath it flexed. The sight made my cock twitch. Without asking I dropped to my knees, palms finding the backs of her thighs. My nose grazed the line of her crack, breath catching on the scent of her shower soap and the faint musk underneath. The cat’s tail curved in just above where her skin creased, and the ears pointed out to either side like handles for my thumbs. I traced the inked outline with my tongue, drawing a slow, wet line across each pointed ear. Candy spread her legs wider, letting me look. The labia were flushed, already wet, glistening just enough to catch the light. I watched the lips part with every breath she took, a single bead sliding down and catching in the thin tuft of hair she keeps trimmed. The little black cat hovered right above it all, watching like an accomplice. I pressed my mouth to the center, tongue flat, licking slow and deliberate from the wet slit up to the cat’s tail again. Candy’s thighs trembled. Another slow lick, deeper now, and her hips rolled back toward me. I stayed there, nose buried, breathing her in while the robe pooled around both our knees.