My tits pressed to the wood—nipples hard against the surface.

He flipped the dress up—spread my cheeks with both hands—leaned down—tongue on my cunt from behind.

Slow laps—broad, flat—tasting the slickness he’d made.

Then pointed—flicking my clit—circling—sucking gently.

I gripped the edge of the desk—knuckles white—pushed back against his face.

He groaned—vibration rolling through me—pushed two fingers back inside—curled—stroked—tongue never stopping.

I was shaking—moaning into my arm—trying to stay quiet.

Mom was gone, but the house felt too big, too echoey—every sound amplified.

He added a third finger—stretched me wider—kept the rhythm steady—tongue flicking faster.

Pleasure coiled again—tighter—higher—my thighs trembled—breath hitching.

“Please,” I gasped—voice muffled against my arm. “Please let...