Dimi lowered herself awkwardly over his lap, her hands landing on the deck on the side of the lounge chair and her head dangling over the edge. She rubbed her forehead nervously and then jumped when Miklos warm hand ran over the roundness of her bottom.
“I haven’t even started yet,” he chuckled at her nerves. He gripped her ass with both of his hands and massaged her cheeks as if relishing her position. “I like these,” he said as he traced the pattern of lace on her underwear. The sudden tearing as he ripped them from the top the bottom made her gasp. “Ah, my little wife, these are soaked through.” He held them to her face, “open.”
“I’m not putting my underwear in my mouth.”
“It’s your juices, from your body, open,”
“No.” She defied him. She was rewarded with one hard smack on her bare
