ZARYA ROGOV
I found myself moaning and writhing under the experience of his skillful fingers that worked on me like an artist works on his art.
His thick and long fingers caressed my most intimate parts. The places even I never touched that way.
He touched me as if staking his claim.
He touched me like I was his favorite addiction.
His one and only obsession.
His rightful possession.
I couldn't control the sounds that escaped my lips. I was no longer in my senses, my mind was in a haze, and the only thing I could focus on was him.
I lay completely bare under him. Not a single piece of cloth hid me from him. Not a single gap between our bodies.
His warmth mingled with mine.
His fingers buried deep in me, caressing the barrier he was preparing for himself to break through until
