Adrian
You're going to be the death of me. And I'm going to love every second of it.
Shelaughed, the sound carrying through the audio feed and straight to my soul.
Then she moved to her dresser, pulling out a pale blue nightgown, and began the most erotic torture session of my life.
Every movement was heaven. She bent to retrieve something from a drawer, giving me a perfect view of her ass. She stretched to reach something on a high shelf, arching her back until her breasts jutted forward.
She stood at the edge of her bed and slowly, methodically, began braiding her hair.
Isla
Am I putting on a good show?
Adrian
You're fucking killing me. Keep going.
She smiled at her phone, fingers never pausing in their work as shewove her blonde hair into a braid.
The concentration on her face, the gentle tug of her fingers through the strands, the way her breasts swayed slightly with each movement—it was hypnotic.
Isla
I like knowing you're watching me. It makes me feel... pretty.
Fuck. My angel had a dark streak.
Adrian
You mean dangerous? You have no idea what kind of beast you’re stirring.
She finished the braid and let it fall over one shoulder, then reached for the nightgown. Instead of putting it on immediately, she held it up to herself, posing in the mirror, letting me see how the fabric would drape over her curves.
Isla
Should I put this on, or would you rather I stay naked a little longer?
My cock ached painfully in my grip. The panties were beyond ruined now, dripping with nothing but her scent and my desperate need.
Adrian
Stay naked. Please let me look at you.
She set the nightgown aside and stretched out on her bed, phone in hand, completely nude and utterly confident.
Her free hand traced idle patterns on her skin, over her collarbone, down her ribs, across her hip, putting on this show just for me.
Isla
Do I lookpretty right now?
My breath hitched. The simple question was loaded with so much more than she was asking.
Adrian
Pretty? Angel, your perfect curves and tight pussy? You’re a fucking masterpiece.