“You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he says, lying on his stomach between my legs. “I’m not just talking shit, Liv. It’s fucking gorgeous. So wet and pink, begging to be rubbed and explored.” I can’t speak—can’t think. I’m just a mindless doll as he grazes the rim of my entrance with his fingers, pausing to pull the delicate hood covering my clit back and exposing it to the cold air in the room. “You’re throbbing, aren’t you, sweet girl? I can see it.” “Mhmm,” I whine, writhing against the mattress.
