Riley Porter
Sit On It
R.J Parker waits in the dark. Her fingers trail the inside of her thigh. She spreads her legs wider. The lace around her hips digs into soft skin. Her breath catches when the light hits the wet spot on black satin. She watches the door. Pulse thudding. Waiting. Hungry. One heel drags the floor in slow circles. She leans back, hips tilted up, and drags two fingers along the soaked fabric. Slow. Deliberate. Her lips part, a low sound slips out. She bites it back. Then she smiles, small and sharp, because she knows exactly who’s about to walk in.
R.J Parker waits in the dark. Her fingers trail the inside of her thigh. She spreads her legs wider. The lace around her hips digs into soft skin. Her breath catches when the light hits the wet spot on black satin. She watches the door. Pulse thudding. Waiting. Hungry. One heel drags the floor in slow circles. She leans back, hips tilted up, and drags two fingers along the soaked fabric. Slow. Deliberate. Her lips part, a low sound slips out. She bites it back. Then she smiles, small and sharp, because she knows exactly who’s about to walk in.