Artemisia
“How are you so wet already?” he asks with a smirk, circling my c**t with his finger.
I moan, clasping his t-shirt, “Oh, shut up!”
His smirk just gets broader, and he lets go of my hair, moving his other hand under my dress as well.
“Get this off,” he growls, and I comply hurriedly, pulling my sundress over my head.
I unclasp my bra, making it follow the dress as I let it fall on the floor, and my heart skips a beat as I see his eyes darken, the red flecks getting more prominent.
As he continues to play with my p***y, his other hand moves up, getting me to lean back slightly, exposing myself even more to him. His fingers travel up between my breasts, wrapping around my neck, the sparks igniting on my skin, making me even wetter.
Removing his hand from around my body,
