Why don't you get a taste?
Golden girl Alison Rivers has it all: brains, looks, money, a father who adores her, and any man she wants... Or so she thought.
When she sets her eyes on Lorenzo Visconti, her academy's Italian, irresistible principal, sh...
Really curious as to what you'll think about this.
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The air got knocked out of my lungs as he slammed my body against his. That, paired with the passionate kiss in which we were engaging, was making me feel lightheaded. I could barely believe it, the first man I ever, truly liked had his lips attached to mine, and I was feeling extraordinary things.
I slid my hands up his firm chest and wrapped my arms around his neck, getting on my tippy toes for a more comfortable position.
Mr. Visconti allowed his hands to trail down my hot body, briefly grazing the soft skin of my derrière before stopping at my waist, as if he were too afraid to touch me there. He was radiating heat and masculine pheromones, which were sending my brain into overdrive through my olfactory canal.
I protested into the kiss, quickly pushing his hands back down before threading my fingers through his short hair, alternating between tugs and slow strokes that had him throbbing against my lower stomach.
He seemed uncertain at first, as he gave me light caresses. Though, maybe the fact that I instantly pushed my lower body into him gave him more confidence, because soon enough he began harshly squeezing the round globes of my ass. It felt like he was releasing all of his frustrations onto my soft flesh.
I was sinking into this fiery red ocean of Eros, which violently washed over me and penetrated into my every crevice, turning me into a moaning, needy mess. This wasn't enough to sate my thirst. I needed more.
Before I could even say anything, Mr. Visconti glided his right hand between my legs from behind, stopping when he encountered a soaked patch on my panties. He started by delicately grazing that area with his fingertips, never once interrupting our kiss, which was becoming more intense with each passing second.
I pushed myself even more into him, desperately looking for more contact. In order to achieve that, I blindly patted his shirt until I found the first button, and I worked to undo it. After loosening the top buttons, I brought my hands to my back and tried to unclasp my bra.
His left hand, which was still indulging in the creamy skin of my voluptuous butt, came down roughly onto it, his cold wedding band adding to the arousing sting. "Keep your lingerie on." He ordered gruffly, turning me around so that my back was pressed to his chest. "This is the first and last time."
I wanted to object, but suddenly his hands, sprinkled with dark hairs that only served to make them look all the more manly, slipped inside my panties. I couldn't move, all I could do was watch as he laid his palms flat on my skin, pulling me as close to his body as possible, before they disappeared downwards.
The breathtaking man planted the tip of his right middle finger on top of my clit, gently beginning to rub it in a circular motion. "Do you like it?"
