‘Like what?’ ‘Um…’ ‘You must certainly think about your finger nails.’ I commented absently. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ ‘W...ll, they are manicured to near perfection.’ I told her matter of factly. She seemed to be upset that I’d said near. ‘Do you do them your self?’ ‘NO! I go to Mario Tricocci.’ She said excitedly, but a little contemptuously. As if I should have known where she had her nails done by the shine of them. ‘I see.’ I didn’t really. Not at all. Don’t get me wrong, I. Her clit hardened up, and I played around with the little knob with my tongue. She clenched my face with her hot thighs and writhed, giving me a headache as I moaned in pain. "MORE!" she yelled, between groans, and I kept going, wondering how long I would have to go. She came a little bit, and I licked up what I could, the rest drooling down to my neck. I felt like I was going to suffocate several times throughout the ordeal, and if I'd stop to get a breath she'd jab that freezing gun in my. More

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