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—Emily.
I mock him, when I get up I let him put the towel on the edge of the bed, I sit down and place my feet on the edge to be exposed to him. With another wet towel he passes it between my folds, wets the area and prepares to help me in this matter that would be a true mission impossible for me. I fall on my elbows because being slightly bent makes my abdomen press against my chest and I run out of air.
I notice how he presses his fingers into my folds, opens them and his breath begins to blow against the mound of flesh that swells with blood in moments.
—Salvatore, this way I won't finish... ah.
-What were you saying?
He moves his fingers over my clit, rubs it and then inserts a finger into my entrance making me moan.
—You have to help me, not make me moan, fool.
"Sorry, I thought this little pussy needed a little release."
—You're heating me up, that's not fair.
—Okay, I'm going to finish and then try how this turned out, I promise.
It's true that I was already starting to get wet, I feel how he passes the scissors through the curls that he is cutting and he does that for several minutes. Because of my belly I can't see very well what he's doing, but I notice how he brings his face closer to my thighs, biting them and marking them.
I try to hold on because his bites and licks that attack the outbreak of nerves in the middle of my legs make me want to have him inside me with his tongue, fingers or his big cock.
-You're done?
—You're anxious, huh?
"I like it when I have your tongue in my vagina," I tempt him, "you know, playing, your fingers opening my folds and you biting them."
—Emily.
I don't pay attention to him, now it's mine.
"Your fingers playing in my pussy, tight, which may soon not feel that way due to childbirth," I play, seducing him with my voice. You say that I have a tight pussy, I would like you to fuck me like you know how to do it, fuck that tight pussy Salvatore.
—Cagna.
A complete change in the words he uses to address me means that I'm putting him down, his hands are slower down there doing their job.
—Playing and playing until I come on top of you and you urinate on my body, anyway, that is my great pleasure.
—I'm not going to fall, just as you didn't fall, I won't.
He pats the inside of one of my thighs. When I see that he doesn't get up or continues to bring his mouth closer to play with my clitoris, I fall on the bed and squeeze my breasts in my hands, causing me to start panting. The whitish pearls appear wetting my fingers when I squeeze my nipples, he growls at each seductive sound that leaves my throat.
The movement of my hands against my breasts makes me begin to lubricate, my vagina becomes moist and it is impossible for him not to realize it. This time he goes faster, cutting and cutting, running the blade against the pleats and edges of my vagina to remove the excess.
-What are you doing?
"Playing with my tits, they are very big and heavy," I purr, "and milk comes out of each one, do you want to try?"
—Is this your challenge? I'm preparing you for delivery.
—I don't think you're doing very well, diavolo.
That hits him hard because messing with Salvatore Marino's pride and ego is a challenge for him that he cannot afford to lose. He passes the wet towel again, it's cold and I whimper when he opens my folds to clean them, sweeping all the moisture to my ass.
When he finishes, he puts everything away, puts aside the bowl that I left half of the fruits and I don't see him get up; However, I feel his fingers parting my swollen vaginal lips. He reaches out to peel his teeth and rake them against my bud, his beard an extra bonus that scrapes against the inside of my vagina as he sinks his mouth into my sex.
