Backstage of Promise of passion

Aisha stood naked in front of the full-length mirror, running lotion over her skin until it gleamed. She traced circles around her nipples until they hardened under her fingertips, the small peaks begging for attention. Eve watched from the bed, eyes hungry. Eve moved without asking permission. She pressed Aisha against the cool glass, her mouth finding the soft curve of her neck. Aisha gasped—hadn't expected teeth so soon. The sudden warmth between her legs told her everything she needed to know. Eve sank to her knees with practiced grace. She spread Aisha's thighs with sure hands, then dragged her tongue through slick folds in one deliberate stroke. Aisha's knees buckled. Eve caught her, kept going. Long, slow licks that circled her clit without touching it. Teasing. Aisha pushed her hips forward, silently begging for more pressure. When Eve finally sucked the swollen bud between her lips, Aisha cried out. Two fingers slipped inside her without warning. They curled. Pressed. Found that spot that made the room tilt sideways. Aisha's hands tangled in Eve's hair, gripping tight. Eve added a third finger. Worked them deeper. Her tongue flicked faster now, matching the rhythm of her hand. Aisha rode it—hips rolling, chasing the edge. She could hear how wet she was, the sound obscene in the quiet room. When she came, it was sudden. Her whole body jerked forward, face pressed to the mirror as she shook. Eve held her through it, fingers still moving, drawing every last tremor from her until Aisha went slack against the glass, breathing hard.