Let it Burn: Part 2

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Her lip caught his attention first. The perfect fullness caught between her teeth, pink and soft. He was supposed to be sleeping, needed to be. There was a meeting in the morning he needed to be sharp for, but here he was, lingering awake, thinking about this girl who seemed to have taken over his mind. Those lips. So soft, so wet. And then he realized it wasn’t just a sexy lip biting picture she had sent.He blinked.Then he blinked again.He struggled but then swallowed a few times, and then put his phone down on the bed.Fuck.The girl had nerve, he had to give her that. Probably big balls of steel and confidence a mile long as well. And it made him smile widely in the dark of his room.It was an image he would have a hard time getting out of his mind for a long while. He had been entranced istanbul travesti by her face, the sweetness of it, how young she looked still, but then when he realized…she was nearly fucking naked in the shot. God. She was anything but sweet. Innocent. The girl was a devil. Perfectly evil. And God he wanted nothing more than to make her his.He could feel his cock swelling inside of his boxer shorts, pressing against the rough cotton fabric, making him want to curse again. He had already taken care of his problem he thought, after speaking with her on the phone, but apparently, the once wasn’t enough.  Hearing her voice did something to him every time, sending these urges through him.They were good friends, but her voice, soft, sweet voice with the hint of huskiness that istanbul travestileri bordered on sin made him want to beg her for a moan, anything to ease his tormented mind. His closed eyes pictured those nipples, hard and pink on her small chest, begging for his tongue to lick them, his teeth to tease them.He groaned and rubbed his face. She would be the death of him. He could see himself pushing them up to his mouth, taking one pebbled nipple and then the other between his teeth, biting them, making her cry out…“See what you do to me…she asks…fuck. What I do to her. What she does to me…every night…pure fucking torture…” he grumbles softly, his voice husky with want, lifting his shirt, baring his stomach, his hand touching his skin, wishing it was hers. His own hand would travesti istanbul never be enough, never bring him the satisfaction of what he knew was her own soft skin. He knew she kept her nails long, and she would be scratching him, leaving a trail of red behind, marking him up for her own. God, he wanted to feel her touching him.He could picture her, on her knees, that coy smile on her face, her hair brushing in her eyes, licking those soft pink lips, tugging at his pants. He eased his boxers out of the way, wrapping his hand around his cock for the second time, the hard length growing harder. He kept picturing her small soft hand wrapped around it, her eyes watching his face, enjoying his look of need and torment.“Hard for me Adam? Let me taste you and see if you’re ready…” Her voice would huskily whisper to him, her hand pumping him firm and slow. Then her mouth would come down, her tongue flicking the tip of him, tasting his salty pre-cum. She would dip it a little into his slit, making his groan turn into a growl, such a little tease.

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