Love At First Sight

She clocks him the second he steps in. Kylie Rocket. Five feet of trouble in black lace. Mick Blue. Older. Rough around the edges. Eyes lock, breath shortens, and the room tilts. 2020. No names needed. She drops to her knees fast, takes him deep, tongue flat, throat open. He groans like he forgot how. Then she climbs, spins, they lock into a sixty-nine that feels stolen. Her mouth never stops working while he buries his face between her thighs. Brunette hair falls across his stomach. She swallows him whole again, nose pressed to skin. He flips her. Hands grip hips. He drives in from behind, hard, steady, doggystyle that rattles the headboard. Every thrust lands deep. She pushes back, takes it all. Sweat. Breath. Skin on skin. Nothing soft here. Just raw need dressed up as chance. Love at first sight never looked so filthy.