In these lengthy moments, it feels like she’s dousing you in her searing hot affection. Dim lights filter from beneath the bathroom door across your apartment bedroom and the sound of the radio on your nightstand serves as mere background noise. Something to distract you from the fact that, once again, Sevika has you stumbling into your bed, her fingers deftly exploring the curvature of your figure with familiarity.

Her heavy fingers enclose around your waist, almost fully encapsulating it in a way that shows just how much bigger she was than you. The contrasting temperature between both her augmented and unaffected hands rouse a quivering tingle to shoot through your nerves. They squeeze absentmindedly and you feel your own palms run along the expanse of Sevika’s torso.

Her plush lips tug at your skin for a beat. It pulls. Like it could be torn by her teeth at any moment. She leaves behind her signature watermark. A warm, wet sensation that lingers on the nape of your neck. And her throat warbles out a lazy hum that further expresses Sevika’s commitment to finding relief from her boring week in your body. Just as she did every other night after more than a few drinks at the brothel and getting more handsy than necessary with you. But you had zero qualms with it.

Sevika is a well-paying client after all. And what she wouldn’t give for a good waste of money and a satisfying night to go along with it.