THE MAFIA'S CAPTIVE ANGEL
My moan is deep in the back of my throat.
For a while, we stood there, him clutching my breast and fingering me, while I tried to keep upright as my knees threatened to buckle underneath me. Inside, my fires burn hotter and hotter, like a volcano preparing to blow, while Sin plays my body like a maestro on his grand piano, teasing every sound in my register out of me with his strokes, pinches, and stabs.
My moans come faster and louder, and I’m just about to go over the edge when he pulls out. I can’t hold back a disappointed whine.
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