Forty Eight

Where the fuck is Massa?

Her hand creeps up the top and I gasp when she reaches inside my cup, pinching my nipple. And with every touch, I see the effect it has on her. She's changing. Her breasts have filled out, straining against the bra she has on. What exactly is this Prita girl?

She lets go of my nipple, going south. She flicks my belly button and I watch as the skin on her stomach gains some color. She continues flicking, until the skin on her stomach is now a creamy white. She touches me there, she changes there. The mere thought of her grabbing my arse has me choking on my own breath. Her finger trails up my arms and her arms are no longer bony, but also a creamy white.

She fingers my waist, hers become thicker. Her fingers are out of sight, and it's after a while I realize where they've gone.

Goddess, she's touching me. She's touching my butt. She squeezes my flesh and I let out a gasp as she dips a finger in, playing with the thong underneath my skirt.

Fuck Massa for put