Page 10 of Lorenzo

“I’ve been watching you since the lobby,” she says, “and I love your dark looks. I can’t wait to get a taste of you.”

Then she goes down on her knees on that black marble without waiting to be asked.

That works for me.

She takes her time with my belt. Looks up once to check that I’m watching.

I’m watching.

“Yes. Like that,” I tell her a minute later, my hard dick enjoying the warmth of the rich lady’s hungry mouth.

Almost a 9-star rating. Impressive.

My hands run through her hair. She hums around me, pleased with herself.

She works her tongue in a slow circle.

Then her lips close around the tip of my cock with a soft pull that makes me tighten my grip on her hair.

“Yes,” I murmur. Her fancy jacket slips from her shoulder.

She doesn’t bother to fix it.

I rest my thumb along her firm jaw.

My balls tighten, yearning for release.

But the fancy Connecticut lady’s making me wait.

She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s enjoying every second of it.

I like the defiance.

Yet I’m expected in the ballroom shortly.

“I don’t have long,” I tell her.

She pulls back just enough to speak.

“Then stop being such a gentleman. Show me some real action.”

I take her hair in my fist and hold her where I want her.

She moans around me, both hands braced on my thighs, and she does not let go.

When I’m close, I tell her.

“On my face,” she says. “I want to watch you do it in the mirror.”

So that’s where it goes.

When it’s done, she laughs, breathless, and wipes her cheek with the back of her wrist.

“Fun. I enjoyed that.”

I tuck myself away and zip up, as my phone buzzes.

It’s my brother.