THERESA
Kolya kissed his way down, slowly and torturously, until he reached the waistband of my sweatpants. The fabric felt too thick, too suffocating, too concealing. I let out a soft whimper as he hooked his fingers into the fabric and dragged the pants down my legs.
When he returned, hovering just over me, my hands found his torso, and I slid them down the ridges of his well-sculpted abs, down to his hard stomach, until I found the waistband of his boxer briefs. I hesitated for a moment, but only for a moment. Soon I was removing them, exposing him to me, how massive and hard he was.
I couldn’t help but wrap my palms around him and stroke his length in slow methodical movements. A guttural sound reverberated from Kolya’s chest. That sound only made me more greedy, more wanton. And be
