Another abstract #smutprompt. Let's see what spicy writing you have inspired by. Whispers. Breath them in my ear. 😜 #vssmut #eroticwriterslift #erotic #smutsky #literotica

Melissa sauntered into the living room wearing the lacy red bodysuit she'd ordered specifically to celebrate their fifth anniversary. The package had arrived that morning, and after twenty minutes of contorting herself into the complicated straps and hooks, she was ready to make her grand entrance.

Greg didn't notice her at first, engrossed in whatever sports highlight reel blared on the TV. She cleared her throat. His head turned, eyes widened, and his mouth fell open with an audible pop. The beer he'd been nursing tipped sideways, foam pooling on his thigh.

"Holy... wow," he stammered, fumbling to set the bottle on the coffee table while never taking his eyes off her. A thin line of drool escaped the corner of his mouth. Melissa struck a pose, one hand on her cocked hip. "Like what you see?"

"I—" The words caught in his throat. He swallowed hard. "I didn't know they made those in... um, that color." She approached slowly, the way she'd seen femme fatales do in movies, but the unfamiliar four-inch heels betrayed her. Her ankle wobbled, and she grabbed the doorframe to steady herself.

Greg's eyes darted to the straining fabric. "Honey, is that supposed to—" "Shh," she murmured, her lips grazing his earlobe. "I'm going to do things to you that will make you forget your own name."

"I'm already halfway there," he whispered back, the drool now a legitimate stream trickling down his chin. She climbed onto his lap, knees on either side of his legs, the bodysuit protesting with every movement. She leaned forward, her lips brushing the sensitive spot just below his ear.

"Do you know what I want to do tonight?" she purred, voice like liquid honey. Greg's hands found her hips, fingers digging into the lace. "Tell me." "I want to ride you until my legs give out." Her teeth grazed his earlobe. "I want to feel you throb inside me."

His breathing quickened. The rough fabric of his sweatpants did nothing to hide his growing excitement. "Jesus," he groaned, hips shifting upward involuntarily. "I want to taste every inch of you." Her tongue traced the shell of his ear, voice dropping to a whisper.

"I want to suck your cock until you can't take it anymore." Greg's head fell back against the couch. "Fuck, Mel..." "I want you to cover me in cum. My tits, my face, my ass, mark me everywhere." Her hand slid down his chest, nails dragging lightly over his nipple through his shirt.

"Yes," he hissed, gripping her tighter. "God, yes." "But I can't." Her voice suddenly shifted, tone hardening. Greg froze. "What? Why?"

Melissa pulled back, eyes narrowed. She stared at him for one long, intense moment before her hand shot down, slapping his erection hard through his sweatpants with a resounding smack. "Fuck!" Greg yelped, doubling over as her palm connected.