That thought darkens my mood as I approach her. She’s kneeling on a garden pad in a soft, fitted black dress that hugs every curve on her body. When she leans forward to gather some fresh herbs, the swell of her breasts beneath that curved hem sends a rush of blood straight to my cock.
I’m deep in the fantasy of face-fucking my wife and groping her tits when Nonna calls out to me.
“Angelo, look.” She shows off her basket of herbs. “For the pesto.”
I thank her in Italian, aware of the effort she’s pouring into today’s lunch. There’s nothing she enjoys more than feeding anyone and everyone, but I appreciate her labor.
“I’ll give you a moment,” Nonna tells Abella. “Bring me the parsley when you’re done.”
Abella nods as Nonna scurries off, leaving us alone.
“Hi.” Abella glances up at me with a nervous smile.
I reach down and drag my thumb across her lips, contemplating if I have time to fuck her.
“Are you bleeding?” I ask her bluntly.
She shakes her head, and something about the expression on her face gnaws at my gut. It’s a problem for later. But right now, I’ll settle for purging my frustration.
Abella seems to be aware of my thoughts when she reaches up to palm the erection in my trousers. She tilts her gaze toward me, eyes soft, lips parted—the perfect offering. On her knees, she’s mine to command, mine to ruin.
She extends that invitation when she slowly drags the zipper of my trousers down and presses a kiss against the hard outline in my briefs.
I wind my fingers through her hair, the need to fuck her mouth greater than the risk of being caught. Not far from us, laughter drifts from the backyard, and it’s not improbable that I already have guests here.
It doesn’t stop me from slipping my palm into the top of her dress and playing with her tits as she jerks me off through my briefs. Fuck that feels good.
“In your mouth,” I order roughly.
She obeys, pulling down my briefs and sliding her fingers around the base of my cock. She grips as much of me as she can, then she opens her mouth and sucks me inside.
“Bellissima, guarda come mi prendi.”
She melts for me, aching to be my good girl as she offers up her throat and takes me deeper. The reverent sounds that bleed from her as she pleasures me could only be described as worship.
I close my eyes and surrender to the feeling. Abella must, too. Because a moment later, when we hear Gabi’s voice, we both startle.
“Ho—ly crap.”
When I open my eyes, Gabi, Serafina, and Chantel are all standing at the edge of the garden, wearing matching expressions of shock.
Abella panics and pulls her mouth off my dick, only to realize her friends are all inadvertently staring at it now. She tries to cover it with her hands, which doesn’t work, and now they’re all panicking.
“Oh my god,” Serafina blurts, slapping her hands over her eyes. “We’re sorry—oh my god.”
“We’ll just”—Chantel tugs at Gabi, who seems to be frozen in place—“be going now.”
They stumble off, and Abella glances up at me with wide eyes and a pretty flush spreading over her chest.
“We should go inside,” she squeaks.
“Not a chance.” I drag my cock over her lips. “Open wide,cara.”
She lets out a soft breath and stretches her jaw as I feed the length of my cock into her mouth. While I’d be content to stay here and let her lazily suck on me for hours, we don’t have the privilege of time.
I press my fingers into the back of her skull and drag her head up and down the length of my cock. She rests her palms on my thighs and lets me use her as I please, moaning around me, even as I gag her.
The little deviant likes being mouth-fucked, and it gets me so hard, I lose myself in it. As my muscles draw tight and the pressure builds, it’s all I can do not to pour my release down her throat.
