My self-control has been tested today more times than in my whole f*****g life. It takes everything in me to go to the bathroom and place a few towels in a bowl of hot water. When I return, she’s on her back again, every inch of her naked skin laid out for me.
I stare down at my c**k that’s becoming a f*****g nuisance. “Really, now? Since when are we into somnophilia?”
The only reply I get is an antagonizing erection.
I think of babies, the faces of people shot in the forehead with a shotgun, and Yulia.
The last one does it.
I sit on the side of the bed and start by wiping Sasha’s face, then her neck—lingering for a bit too long on my finger marks. Then I clean the blood off her chest and stomach. After that, I take extra care of cleaning her unsatisfied p***y. She moans when I wipe h
