The sight of her, on her knees for me, pleasuring herself while she pleasures me, is the most erotic thing I have ever seen.
"You like that,sporcacciona?" Naughty girl. "You like sucking my cock while you finger your tight little cunt?
She moans, her hips rocking against her hand, her movements becoming more frantic. I can feel her teeth scrape lightly against my shaft, and it sends a jolt of pleasure-pain through me. I’m so close.
"That's it," I say, my hips starting to rock, fucking her mouth. "Just like that. Take it all."
Her other hand comes up to cup my balls, rolling them gently in her palm. I'm going to die. I'm literally going to die from the pleasure.
I don’t want it to be over that soon, though. Before I can come, I slide out of her mouth with a wet pop. She whimpers in protest, her lips red and swollen, as she looks up at me, her eyes dark with desire.
"Antonio," she whispers. "Come in my mouth."
I don't answer, just grab the bottle of soap from the shelf. I pop the top and hold it over her breasts. She gasps as the cool, clear liquid hits her skin.
"Soap them up," I command. "Make them nice and slippery for me."
She doesn't hesitate, her hands moving to her chest, spreading the soap over her breasts, making them gleamunder the water. She pinches her own nipples, her head falling back with a soft moan.
"You have gorgeous tits, Elsa." My eyes are glued to her hands on her breasts.
"You want to fuck them?" she purrs.
"Only if you want me to, amore mio," I say, and I mean it.
"I do," she says, still lathering them up with soap.
"You sure?" I ask, one last check.
She kneels up a bit higher, cupping her slick breasts, offering them to me. "Put your cock between my tits, Antonio."
I lean down and take her mouth in a hard kiss. "Gladly," I rumble against her lips.
ChapterThirty Four
Elsa
My body is a live wire. Every nerve ending is buzzing with an electric current that seems to originate from Antonio.
He straightens, and I watch, mesmerized, as he fists his cock and presses the tip between my breasts. I press my breasts together, creating a tight, slick channel for him, and I look up at him, watching the pleasure wash over his face as he begins to move.
"Fuck," he groans, long and loud. "That feels so fucking good."
The friction is exquisite. I can feel the smooth, hard length of him against my sensitive skin, and it sends sparks flying through me.
"You like that? Fucking me like this?" I ask, my voice a husky whisper. "Your cock is so big and hard; it feels amazing between my tits."
"God, yes," he says, his hips rocking faster. "You look so beautiful on your knees for me."
His words give me a jolt of pure lust, arrowed straight to my pussy. I love this. I love the power, the submission, the raw, primal intimacy of it. I love the way he looks at me, like I'm a goddess, a siren, a creature of pure sex. The way I can make him lose control with just a touch, a look, a few well-chosen words.
And I love the way he can do the same to me.
I love the way he looks at me, like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
My pussy is clenching, desperate for attention, but both hands are busy with my breasts. And I wouldn’t stop this for anything.
He picks up speed, his movements becoming more powerful, more demanding, and I watch, captivated, as the head of his cock appears and disappears with every thrust.
