TWISTED ECSTASY
Vivienne pushes the warm glass deeper inside me, twisting it slowly so I feel every inch. I am still shaking from the previous orgasm, my thighs slick, my mind spinning. The stretch is so intense that I let out a broken moan.
“Easy, chérie,” she whispers, holding my stomach to keep me steady. “This collector is designed to reach the places your boyfriend never bothers with. Breathe through it. Let it open you.”
I grip the edges of the bench, legs spread wide like some kind of offering. The glass is smooth but thick, and every little movement sends sparks up my spine. Vivienne watches my face the entire time, studying me like I am the most fascinating formula she has ever worked on.
Bab Populer