Rain.
“f**k, look at you,” he rasps, with a smile of admiration and I can’t help but blush under his praise. Remembering how he’d praised me on his knees and made me feel like a f*****g woman.
“You’re so f*****g beautiful.”
He dips two fingers into an open can of paint and I watch him drag them down my chest, over my breasts, circling my hard n*****s until they’re coated in sage green.
My body arches into his touch, a moan already leaving my mouth.
“I’m gonna paint you like my own filthy canvas,” he says, pinching my n****e.
I laugh and swat his hand away. “I want to suck you first. Can I?”
Shamelessly, I grab his sweatpants and shove them down, without waiting for his response. I’ve dreamt of this, all the times he’s f****d me, I’ve wondered how his c**k would fit in my mouth. If i
