51
Peter
My ptichka is quiet as I bring her to the bathroom and lower her into the bubble bath I prepared before leaving to pick her up. The tub is too small for us both, so I use the sink to wash up and then perch on the side of the tub, watching her rosy n*****s play peekaboo with the bubbles. With her head resting on the edge of the tub, her eyes closed, and her delicate features pink with post-orgasmic glow, she looks so tempting I want her all over again.
Tonight, I promise myself.
As soon as Sara is done with her bath, we’re going to eat, and then she’s mine all night long.
Sensing my gaze on her, she opens her eyes. “Thank you for this,” she murmurs, moving one graceful hand through the bubbles. “I can’t remember the last time I did this.”
I fight the urge to reach in and capt
