Abigail Part 5

Markus pushes the door open. Abigail’s blouse is still open from the party. One strap of her bra has already slid off her shoulder. He steps inside without asking. She moves back, closes the door with her heel. The lock clicks. He cups her face, kisses her hard. Her hand finds the front of his trousers and squeezes. He lowers the other bra strap, frees both breasts, thumbs her nipples until they tighten. She drops to her knees on the hallway floor, opens his belt, pulls him out. Her mouth takes him in deep, slow, saliva shining on his shaft each time she pulls back to breathe. He gathers her hair, watches her lips stretch around him. She stands, leads him to the couch. He lies down. Abigail climbs over him, guides him inside, rides him with steady rolls of her hips. Her breasts sway. Her hair sticks to her damp neck. Markus grips her waist, thrusts up to meet each drop. When he pulls out she stays on top, stroking him until he finishes across her stomach. She looks down at the mess, then at him, and smiles.