All you can eat buffet between my legs

She's stretched across the sheets with the kind of unhurried confidence that makes your mouth water before you've even moved closer. Dark hair fanned out, thighs parted just enough to make it an invitation rather than a demand.

You take your time. Fingers first, tracing the soft inner skin where her pulse runs quick and warm. She watches you through half-closed eyes, hips tilting upward — a slow, deliberate push toward your mouth.

When you finally taste her, she exhales your name like punctuation. Her fingers find your hair and tighten. The only rule here: don't stop until she says so.