Slowly, I bent my knees and sank to the damp tile, my legs spread obscenely, putting everything on display.
My engorged clit pulsed, my pussy no doubt swollen and flushed, and he took it in, mouth going slack as his hand moved faster along his cock.
Oh, he liked this.
His chest heaved, breath sawing out of his lungs. "Beg me," he said in a low rumble. "Beg me to let you come."
I could play this his way . . .or he could play it mine. Of the two of us, I was certain I could last longer without an orgasm.
Hands resting on my thighs, I began crooning, "Can you see how wet I am, Don Kuznetsov? Can you see how turned on I am by watching you jerk that big cock of yours? I bet you have to use lube when you fuck, you're so big. Do the women scream when you're pounding inside them? Do you make them bleed, leave their pussies raw?"
His hand flew, pumping harder, squeezing, his breath stuttering. "Minchia!" he hissed. "That fucking mouth."
