Beautiful Platter

Beautiful Platter

“Don’t move.” His voice is low but firm. I freeze. Every muscle in my naked body stiffens as he places the finishes touches on his “masterpiece.” Hard walnut and mahogany press against my spine, but I don’t move a muscle while he carefully arranges sashimi on the seaweed elaborately draped over my breasts. I remain frozen on a gaudy Francesco Molon dining room table, except for my dilated pupils, which move over his face.

Dark, slanted eyes. Thick, even darker lashes. I wonder what’s going through his mind as he places maki and sushi rolls in a straight line down the center of my body. The tips of his chopsticks graze me, sending goosebumps cascading over trembling flesh. With everything I have, I force myself to remain still as he prepares my body for nyotaimori. His normally low eyes are almost closed, the dark centers barely visible behind his squinted gaze. Beads of sweat form along his hairline. He wipes them away with a thick, white cotton sleeve before walking out of my line of vision.

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Wet & Ready in Las Vegas

Wet & Ready in Las Vegas

I sit down at my terminal and all I can think about his him. The way he smells, the feel of his big strong hands grazing over my body. I know he’s going to call tonight. I can feel it in my bones. We haven’t spoken since our little encounter, but I know he misses me. I can feel that too. I go live.

Carmen the Latina Lover is live and ready for action. Soon, my line is ringing and my heart thuds in my chest. I suck in a breath and let it out slowly before answering the line. I put as much sex as I can on my usual opening, “Hello, Papi.”

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