Before Isabella could withdraw, his arms came around her, unyielding and hard like the concrete floor. Pulling her into his embrace so that she can no longer feel the cold brick wall behind her.
It was so warm and domineering that it made her limp with helplessness.
Marcelo bent her head back across his arm, his own mouth hovered over hers as he tilted closer. Fanning that warm breath across her lips like a seasonal rush of breeze blowing over the savanna. But her hand squeezed between them, holding the neckline of his shirt.
She was so frightened. He was going to do it. He was simply just going to do it without an ounce of thought. It was terrifying.
Marcelo released a fierce growl. "You need this, Isabella."
Suddenly without any hesitation, his calloused hand cupped her breast. Her body shuddered at the mere contact.
"You are so damn soft."
Words that brushed over her soft parting lips. Pink flesh of her lips that were curved secretly with the gloss of her fading lipstick, still visible. His beard tickled her chin.
Out here in the alleyway, two people who hardly know each other were escaped into their own different world. It was their world.
The role assigned to them was contrasting to what they play in another world. There they are beneath, maybe a farce, maybe a part-lie and truth just glimpsing in flashes.
However right then in that alleyway, they were the same persons. The root of them were never going to change but the role was different. The mask was uncovering but only partly. They are also still diffused and submerged in their own little game of ruse. Of lies.
Lies that prompted Marcelo to feel his pants tighten as he felt the weight of her breast. Gravity pulling, he hefted it. So round. So heavy. So plump.
"So...full." He whispered harshly.
She could feel him. His hard strong body was no match for hers. Pleasure effervesced through her when he squeezed her breast through the fabric.
"You can't stop me." Again, that whisper of his was coarse.
"Marc-" Isabella was cut off by his splendid fingers that were drawing down the décolletage of her sweater, exposing one round tit with it's sharp pointed tip.
Cold fresh current of air drifted the dots to accoutre her skin. She hadn't worn a bra today. Something she should have donned on but she hadn't.
When his thumb ran over her nipple and back, she sucked in her stupid irrelevant contemplation of her not having worn a bra and tried to push back into the stark reality of what was really happening here.
"Place your foot there." He motioned to the dusty closed box crate down by her feet along the brick wall.
Isabella was so dazed that she didn't register when he lifted her knee and placed her foot there himself. The position made her so open to him. Her thighs were spread and just thinking how accessible she had become to him made her nipples harden painfully.
In no rush but with brisk movements, Marcelo drew her other part of her sweater down enough for both of her lush breasts to spill out.
A surging tide of flesh and heat mulled over Isabella as both his hands came and seized upon them.
She bit her lips, trying not to make a sound.
"Let me kiss you."
She shook her head frantically. No. No, she won't let him. She can't let him.
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Vicariously Yours,
العاطفية"And how does that make you feel?" "You want to know how I feel when she refuses to suck my cock?" Red blotches donned on Isabella's cheeks. He had no filter whatsoever and the way he was talking to her like a crass son of a bitch was scalding. How...
