Page 74 of Wicked

As Dante opens my black Ferrari door, paparazzi take photos and hundreds of people are kept back. Dante has sunglasses on, and I have no idea why. All I know is he is a CEO and involved in fashion. He keeps his cards close.

In his suit, he’s as hot as any male model, but for whatever reason, he’s trying to keep a low profile. As paparazzi shoot and people arrive in spectacular clothing, I take his arm, and we are quickly escorted in.

The suited older woman must be connected with the show; she has a head piece and a leather folder. Eventually, she shows us our seats, and we sit in one of the most exclusive areas.

I’ve never been to a catwalk show, and I feel out of place but excited.

The fashion show begins, and the lights, fanfare and theatrics take on a wild and epic feel.

The couture fashion work is more like art, and the fashion brand has really taken it out there.

After thirty minutes watching some of the world’s top catwalk models, many who I recognize from fashion magazine covers, it comes to a breathtaking peak. As the clapping slows and the music drops, I lean close to Dante. “Amazing.”

“Si,” Dante says, “Not bad, student.”

As the fashion designer bows out front, we keep clapping like everyone else. I then turn to Dante, and his eyes find mine.

We stare into each other’s faces, and we don’t look back. My lips then curl up. I’m in heaven.

After a drinkon the roof of some bar and after taking in Milan under the stars, we take a drive through the city’s most amazing sights. People are out walking, dining, and enjoying the evening, and it feels glorious. The city is warm, clean, stunning, and peaceful.

After we park in the hotel’s marble carpark, we take the elevator up in silence. The energy is loaded, and I’m starting to get wet.

As I’m escorted into the suite, I have no idea what will happen next. I turn, about to say something, when Dante’s lips find the back of my neck. They are so soft I freeze before I’m slowly and carefully walked to the wall.

“Lift your dress,” is breathed into my ear and I do as I’m commanded.

As my exposed butt feels his thick cock against me, I spread my legs.

I let Dante kiss my neck, and as his hand reaches around to feel my slick waxed pussy, I start to pant. “Hands up.”

I lift my hands, and the dress stays on my hips.

With one hand on my breast, the other one working my core, I’m soon panting and begging. The wall, necklace, and high heels feel sexy.

“Bed,” is growled next, and Dante pulls back.

I go to remove the Cartier diamonds, Givenchy dress, and high heels, but my teacher growls, “No. Just the dress.”

Dante helps me from the dress, and I lay down carefully. Dante’s eyes are dark, and in his suit, he kneels between my legs. My heart pounds hard, and slowly, I move my knees apart, my feet still in the high heels.

“Legs apart. Show me yourself.”

I gulp, and using my fingers, I slowly show him my waxed pussy. I feel sinful and it feels decadent.

“Circle your clit,” he says, removing his tie. I do as I’m told, and I feel wicked.

As Dante’s dark eyes and sinful lips get closer, I remove my hand. Dante takes my core in his hands, and he devours my wet pussy.

Moaning, I place my high heels on his shoulders. He growls like a wolf, and I spread my legs wider. I then reach down for his hair.

Dante devours my waxed pussy with his thick tongue, sinful lips, and strong jaw. I start to moan in seconds.

Minutes later, I’m begging. Begging to come as he sucks on my clit, laps my juices up, and he swipes me again and again.

His three fingers curled up hit me hard, and it’s soon too much. My back arches like a sinful cat’s. “Coming…” I whimper. “Coming.”

Dante picks up speed, and I start to buck uncontrollably. “Come for me, now.”

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