Always Closing

She set her phone face down and pulled the drawer open. A slim black plug, a curved vibe. Kira worked the vibe over her clit, slow circles, then eased the plug in until she felt the weight settle. She held both inside her, breathing deep, letting the nerves settle. When the bell rang she was wet and steady. Michael met her at the door with the keys and a half-smile. They shut it behind them, locked it. He took her suit jacket off one shoulder at a time. She unbuckled him, tugged his cock out, and dropped to her knees. Her tongue dragged up the shaft, slow, then she sucked the head until spit ran down her fist. He leaned back on the kitchen island, palms flat. She pulled off, breath hot, and took one ball in her mouth, rolling it, gentle, before the other. Her tongue flicked the seam between them and she heard him curse under his breath. She stroked him while she sucked, steady, unhurried. Spit slicked her fingers and his skin. He lifted her onto the counter. She turned, hips back, and guided him to her pussy first, taking him in one long push. He held her waist and fucked her there, deep, then slid out, lower, pressing the head to her ass. She reached back, spread herself, and he sank in. The plug had done its job. She took him to the root, breath catching, then pushed back to meet each stroke. When he pulled out she spun, dropped again, and cleaned him with her mouth. Salt, skin, heat. She licked from base to tip, then took him until her nose brushed his stomach. He came across her tongue and she swallowed, lips still sealed around him. She stayed there a moment longer, breathing through her nose, hand resting on his thigh. The house was quiet. Keys on the counter. Deal closed.