Page 95 of Mario
She is sprawled on her bed, wrecked and beautiful.
Her hair is a dark, damp fan against the white pillow. Her skin is flushed, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, dazed, a soft gray-green in the dim light of the room.
She looks thoroughly, completely, gloriously fucked.
And I have not even been inside her yet.
My cock presses hard against my trousers, painful and insistent.
I am not a patient man.
But I am a controlled one.
And I am going to savor this.
I start to unbutton my shirt.
Her eyes follow the movement, her gaze dropping to my chest as I reveal it inch by inch. She watches me with a new, sharper focus, her own exhaustion forgotten, washed away by the tide of her pleasure.
I shrug out of my shirt and let it fall to the floor.
She sucks in a sharp breath.
I am not vain. I am simply a man who takes care of his body. It is a tool, and I keep it sharp. The results are plain to see.
She stares at my chest, my stomach, her gaze hungry.
It is a look I have seen many times.
It has never affected me like this.
I reach for my belt.
The buckle makes a soft sound as I unbuckle it. I unzip my trousers, the slow slide of the zipper loud in the quiet room.
I push them down, along with my boxers.
My cock springs free, hard and heavy.
Her eyes widen. She licks her lips, a small, unconscious gesture of pure desire.
She is not afraid. She is not intimidated.
She is ready.
She watches me as I kick my clothes aside, as I stand naked before her. Her gaze is a physical touch, a caress that is hotter than any fire.
I crawl onto the bed, over her, caging her in with my body.
I lower my head and press my lips to the hollow of her throat, tasting the salt and sweat on her skin. I feel her pulse beating against my lips in a wild rhythm that matches my own.
I move lower, my lips tracing a path down her body.
I linger at the swell of her breasts, my tongue flicking over the sensitive skin, tasting the faint scent of her lotion.
I reach the delicate lace of her bra.
I do not bother with the clasp.
