Page 55 of Roberto

She moaned every time I did it.

“FUCK…”

“OH GOD…”

The best was when she cried out in Chinese.

And whenever her eyes rolled back in her head, I quietly but firmly ordered her to look at me again.

I had no idea how long we went on like that.

Time had no meaning.

We entered a hypnotic trance as we stared into each other’s eyes.

There was only the flickering candlelight…

Her wetness…

The gentle feel of her beneath my fingertip…

The smell of her sex…

The darkness of her eyes…

The sounds of her whimpers…ah… ah… ah… ah…

And her groans of pleasure.

Her wetness increased. Her pussy was fairly dripping with nectar until the comforter beneath her ass was soaked.

Likewise, a light sheen of sweat glistened on her face. Heat rolled off her skin in waves.

Her body writhed on the bed; her arms strained against the scarves so much I was surprised she didn’t rip them in half.

She would arch her back or grind her hips, trying to press her clit more firmly against my finger –

But I would back off, still maintaining that whisper of a touch.

I knew what she was doing.

She was trying to come.

But I wouldn’t let her.

I had her poised right on the edge of orgasm, and that was where I was going to keep her…

Until she begged.

Finally, she’d had enough.

“Please,” she moaned. “Please…”

“Please, what?” I whispered as I continued to stroke her gently.

“Fuck me…”

“No,” I said. “Not yet.”

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