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Dakota
“Like what you see, Silk?”
The words from the tatted hottie reverberate off of my skin, then I let all the warm goodness of his tone immerse throughout my body. I feel him deep in my soul, and I want to hold onto the first sentence he directed my way.
“I do. The girl with raven hair is very lovely. But she’s blocking the view I’m most interested in right now.”
H inhales, and it’s long and deep. His fingers join with my arm, his silent way of telling me to go for it.
“You don’t want the lovely raven-haired beauty?” Tatted hottie’s fingers knead her nipples as he speaks these words.
“Oh, I won’t say no to her, or Red. But since this whole song and dance started, I think we all truly know who I’m most interested in. And I can’t say my husband disagrees with me much. Do you, H?”
Hardy adjusts my body, and with ease, picks me up, placing me on his lap. He pushes open my legs, playing with my pussy. He has these magic fingers. Fuck. And with one swipe of my clit, the entire room must hear how wet I am. I drop my head onto my husband’s shoulder, breaking the connection between tatted hottie and me.
“The question I have for you right now. Are our services required anymore, or do you want this scene to continue?” Tatted hottie’s words ring through my mind. Why wouldn’t we want them to continue?
Hardy leans over. “We can’t play with them while they’re technically on the clock.”
Oh, yeah, that little stipulation.
H removes his finger from me, and I pop open my eyes as he licks his lips my way.
“Wanna talk?” tatted hottie asks.
“Yeah, I think we would like that very much,” Hardy responds.
“Great, give the four of us a second to chat first, and I’ll be back in,” he surmises, getting head juts from the others, who are in various stages of covering up.
“Wait,” I call out, and he stops as the others continue toward a different door that they’d all used throughout the scene.
“Yeah, Silk?”
“You gotta give us something here.” I stop for a second, the quirk of his brows inquisitive. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Preston.” He’s out of the door, and I don’t have extra time to ask any more questions. But hell, Preston, the tatted hottie, it’s a name that fits him, and fits him just as fine as his jeans hugging his fine as fuck ass.
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