A beautiful woman who seemed to look straight ahead from anywhere, the cameras appeared to distort every angle, almost as if the night had come alive. Everything happened among the stars and the photos that illuminated the atmosphere with colors. Monica's golden dress, with a million-dollar yellow diamond hanging on her chest, was one of Billy's new gifts. They illuminated Monica's eyes; it was the price for having an email address, almost everything; the beauty was magical. While everyone was thinking about the public impact, the microphones asked many questions, and Monica was a woman who seemed to love every detail of attention.
-Monica, you look beautiful.-
-Monica, Billy gave you that jewel.-
-Greetings to Billy.-
-Couple of the year. One photo.-
Billy didn't even look at the camera, while Monica only gave slight smiles. The image was poetic, captured from so many angles for each occasion. All the magazines photographed them as the couple of the moment. The feelings of Titanic lingered in every phrase spouted by fans who only saw the star alongside a newcomer, Kate Winslet from Titanic, a love story that created life and gave dawn to a new type of actor who was enchanted by everything the life of stardom and success represented to people who missed, from so many fronts, all those who desired that.
… The restaurant had two Michelin stars. When Monica entered, Billy saw from behind how people held their breath seeing her—a beautiful woman with a necklace that embodied the beauty of life itself.
-Can I help you? – stammered the waiter, unable to avoid lowering his gaze while Billy's hand rested on his hip. Speaking of attire, Caneli's suit and pointed shoes were impeccable, complemented by a Rolex watch, a genuine beauty of pure gold and classic cut.
-We have a reservation. Please, I hope it's a private area. – Monica responded lightly, startling the poor man who was completely smitten in a platonic way.
— One moment — he replied, sighing, not even looking at the reservation book. It was simply stupid, but he entered a primitive mode in the most allegorical way, taking them to the table with the best view, for four seats, now occupied by two.
-Looks like now you're what they call a true celebrity. – Monica sighed, almost tired, while Billy ordered two glasses of wine.
-It's a trick Jim Wait used. Something about keeping the image alive. It all has to do with fame and success. If we can stage a feat, then that feat makes sense when you see the front, and the cameras create a reality for people to feel the notion of the unattainable. – Billy answered.
-A statement that seems to lose meaning when you say it like that, almost as if when you open your mouth, you strike the vanity present at the event. – Monica replied, looking at her served glass of white wine, taking a sip; a delicious flavor filled with glory. What a good moment for life to spit for you.
-Power, all men desire power over their name or their life. – Billy responded, watching the fervent pace. Every trace passing by them sparked a resonant desire flowing between them, the way of life in every trace seen from ambivalent angles.
It was hard to take every step during dinner. Monica did nothing overtly capable, but the seduction flowing from her behavior was a fleeting flame that seemed never to burn out, grazing life with each step. Unusual for people, who, according to independence and simplicity, found beauty that was uncommon in others; the gene of beauty was from another strong and almost poetic place.
… They brought their faces close; the kisses were a fantasy. Each kiss was so tender that their tongues played like two whirlpools in the water, almost separate yet beautiful to see, how previous shyness never diminished the simplicity. Two kisses, the dress fell, resting on Billy with delicate lingerie, one belonging to no one but only Billy—thin, almost like threads woven from fine silk that bloomed like golden threads, while they captured her novel-like beauty, like an American fairy tale. The goddess falls into the world.
Billy kissed her navel as she sighed. Billy gently bit a little higher on the skin while she lay down, her bare feet trying to steady themselves on the carpet beneath. Beauty gave life and a cause for memory, almost without contrast. Rudeness and falling gave rise to her becoming like jelly when he removed her bra and kissed her breasts. For a long time, electricity flowed through her body; a flickering spark ran through her entirely. It was the wine, she almost thought. No wonder the kisses were so good now.
His hands seemed to touch a harp of life while the true reason unfolding was the only opportunity blooming. She felt the palm of his hand on her stomach, cool, making her laugh as his fingers traced delicate circles. Each circle arched her back, the moment when Billy's fingers approached, giving birth to magic in the breath of her vulva. One finger entered her folds, his fingers performing a place of life since the powers of pleasure pursued and used everything in mind. It was so simple to move up and down while Billy's tongue became more demanding, almost flickering.
He explored her point of ecstasy and took her beyond. The way he tasted her juices caused such madness in Monica. Given her experience, the Italian love was so vivid, noble, and wonderful, filled with fiery memories that nothing nor anyone could escape. The wonderful memories gave him the time to taste every trace, licking up and down and in circles, and his tip invaded every part of her button. Her clitoris twitched in spasms while she went wild with his intense and methodical touch.
Her movements moved with the rhythm. She had no choice but to give in. At the moment, she didn't have time to turn over; she stretched her arms and gripped the sheets tightly. When the liquid she awaited came out, wetting his fingers, coating his hands, Billy lubricated her a bit more. Monica's weakness was her spine, her thighs, and, of course, the closeness of love; when she loved, her sensitive points grew.
Soaked, she received another attack from Billy's mouth, who began to lubricate her small anus, probing her bottom. She had special sensitivity just three centimeters in; it was like glory made flesh. Each time he touched and reached that spot, she lost control, lowered her guard, and completely gave in.
-Aghhh. – She moaned loudly, almost a scream that made her twist wildly.
-Damn it. – Monica gasped, trying to breathe, unable to see clearly. Billy kept gently pressing another finger, then two fingers, stirring every part of her being. He plunged his fingers, then switched to his member, entering slowly and carefully, almost replacing her sex, which was not entirely uncomfortable for Monica. Something about the pressure made her crazy. As she bent down, she lost strength, lost everything left in her soul.
She moaned, out of control. No space for a life filled with decorum, only the failure that gave the most intimate lesson of a place. Complete loss of sense was a game he played for her—countless parts filled with fiery strength and harsh rewards from the overwhelming control of many orgasms.
-Darling. – marked the end of the date. Billy spilled inside her bottom, pressing her breast against her delicate back. She felt the spasms of orgasm, one touch making her jump as she escaped with a scream. Billy didn't do much.
-My legs are shaking. – Monica replied.
-I think no one can deny that we live a very good life. – Billy said while running his hand through her sweat-drenched hair. He kissed her back. Ten minutes later, they started another round, which was perfect, almost magical and precise, keeping her going for the next two hours until they fell asleep.
… Beside the wall, Winona listened to every sound. Her hands worked intensely, forcefully, again and again. Her fingers were powerful as she pulled down her jeans, and wet pink panties filled with sin. She opened the door, bold with it open, and saw everything. Monica smiled at her while she heard her moan, a long sigh before coming, her fingers continued with the next one, then the next."
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