58: I am sorry (II)

“You wouldn’t dare,” Camilla replied.

Maksim snorted. Bold women were now his type, and Camilla May Kalashnikov was the only name on the list. Pulling her forward so she was seated on the edge and her legs were properly positioned on his shoulders, he dived into her pussy. Her fingers descended into his hair as he feasted. He licked her so good, she dripped down the corners of his lips. This pussy that hadn’t opened for other men parted for him, and he dined like a starved man.

His hands reached up to cup her boobs, and she whispered his name. No one had ever said it with such sultriness. It was her first time of doing it while he ate her out. 

Pulling away, his beard coated with her wetness, he told her, “Say it again, Cam.”

Her mouth hung open, and her chest fell with rapid breaths. She was dazed.

“Say what again?” she whispered. 

“Alek. Mak. Whichever. Say it again.” 

Cam