The firelight made shadows on the contours of his face, and in the hollows of his wrists, and Camorra smiled. "Delightful, my young man. Now, if you w...uld so good as to turn to your left very slightly, it shall be perfect." He complied, and the shadows deepened slightly, the shapes changing and elongating, while over his cheekbones and knuckles, subtle highlights played. Smiling again, Camorra put his pencil to the paper. He was an accomplished artist, and quickly produced an excellent likeness. He licks my stomach and bites softly now and then. I go with it; I sit on him and kiss him. His hands drop to my thighs. My head is turned off and my body wins. How I want this, I want him. I take off my shirt and bra; his eyes glare at my breasts. As his hands continue to explore, I push my breasts into his face. He takes hold of my nipple and bites it gently. Then he stops, takes my hand, and takes me to the bedroom. He asks if everything is still in the same place and I nod at him. He takes. More

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