I was teetering, every muscle tightening in preparation, when cold hit my wet flesh. “You’re bare.” Disorientated and wishful, I had no idea what he was talking about. “Huh?” “Your cunt.” A swipe of his tongue emphasized his thick words. “Fuck, it’s so pretty.” “I waxed,” I admitted, and it’d hurt like seven types of hell. I’d do it again, though, if it meant I’d have his mouth on me.
