"Sit," he instructs, gesturing to the spot on the table directly in front of him. His plate is gone, and as I move to perch on the edge, I can't shake a sense of déjà vu, even though this feels worlds apart from our last encounter here.
I part my legs, letting my dress ride up, giving him an unobstructed view of my already glistening p***y. My heart pounds, a mix of nervousness and overwhelming desire.
"Are you that horny for me to f**k you, Francesca?" Rafael asks, leaning back in his chair. His eyes don't drop to where I desperately want them, and frustration mingles with my arousal. Is he going to f**k me or not?
"Who says I'm horny?" I retort though I'm so close to throwing caution to the wind and pleasuring myself right in front of him if he doesn't act soon. But I'd never admit th
