Sienna, a color from earth; if it were a spice it would be as pungent as cinnamon. Sienna floats through her head as his nimble fingers seamlessly eat her pussy. Switching lanes, ambidextrous, up and down. She’s thinking, as the moan escapes her lips subtly.
She shifts her position, almost on top of his thighs as she opens her own, thighs wide, as his hand slides further still and fingers glide deeper to feel.
She moves her hand, intertwining with his as they move in unison inside her wet walls. Slick, sloshing, sounding like rain as his fingers seek her core.
She grabs his lingam, stroking the bulbous head, the pre-cum wetness oozing, cream lets her know he’s excited.
The night is young. It’s only 10pm and they’ve just gotten started. Foreplay. She has yet to explore him, to try and swallow his dick as deep as she can, hoping not to gag, getting it just a little deeper than the last time. She’s no deep throat. Tasting, licking, sucking. Yes, that’s all on tonight’s horizontal plane.
Breaking her reverie, her control changes; her focus must be on the moment. Her name is Silhouette — she belongs to him. She has gifted herself, her heart, her mind, her soul to him.
As she rises to her knees, she thinks, maybe… she will become someone else. Like, Sienna.
