Would you eat it for me from below?

She positions herself above you, close enough that warmth radiates against your face, thighs framing your vision like a portrait you never want to leave.

Your hands find the curve of her hips, guiding her down slowly while her breath catches — that small, involuntary sound that tells you exactly where this is going.

Dark hair spills forward as she looks down at you, watching, waiting, her body language somewhere between a question and a demand — and you answer without hesitation, mouth already moving to give her precisely what she asked for.