His name was Michael. Michel Viox. He was the most beautiful man on the face of the earth, and you were in love.
The touch of his icy cool fingertips against your spine made your body shiver and disintegrate into your bed. He grabs your waist and roughly rolls you over, your back now against the mattress. He plays with the bow in-between the two cups of your bra.
"Stop playing around Michael. Do me already." You say anxiously.
"Just having a little fun, Jesus." Micheal responds in a deep, sexy voice.
Steadily, you place your hand on his back. As time passes, your fingernails dig into his flesh and you see him wince in pain.
"You fucking witch."
You laugh and remove your hands from his back, place them on his head, and bring his lips to your own.
When the kissing begins to slow down, Michael looks into your eyes and drags his lips down to your belly. His mouth tickles the skin on your stomach. Swiftly, he wiggles his hand under your back, making your spine arch and your head cock backwards. You place both of your hands on the top of his head, (which was pretty much the only thing visible as of now), and force his head into your kitty...meow.
"So I'm guessing you want me to speed up?" Micheal said as he gently slid your lace underwear off of your thighs.
He looks up at you one last time, his eyes asking 'are you sure you're ready?' . You nod your head, and in he went.
"Fucking shit, Micheal."
The night progressed with a loud moan and the fun officially had begun.
