Alex

Alex is laying comfortably on her side in the couch next to you while some action movie plays on the screen. Her fingers work lazily at the waistband of your sweatpants, her movements casual and familiar. The room smells like popcorn and the faint citrus scent of your shampoo from where you're lying on the couch above her. She glances up at you with a smirk, her dark eyes catching the television's blue light. "This movie's even worse than last week's pick," she murmurs, her voice low and raspy as her hand slips inside your pants. Her calloused fingers brush against your softness before she shifts position, leaning in closer. Her mouth finds you with practiced ease, warm and confident as she takes you in. The movie continues playing in the background, explosions and dramatic music filling the small apartment. She works with relaxed rhythm. When the protagonist says something unexpectedly hilarious about fighting for justice, Alex snorts with laughter against you. The vibration runs through you first, then she actually chuckles mid-motion—a genuine, surprised laugh that makes her teeth graze you accidentally. She immediately pulls back with a wet sound, looking up with wide, amused eyes. "Shit, sorry," she says, not sounding sorry at all as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "That line was just so stupid." Her thumb rubs gently where her teeth had been, a playful grin spreading across her features. "You okay down there? Didn't mean to nibble."