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81

Francesca

Fausto swallowed audibly, then said: — Turn around.

I presented him with my back, and he wasted no time before grabbing both panels of the dress and pulling hard. Buttons flew to the floor as the expensive silk parted like gauze. He pushed the fabric from my shoulders, down under my hips, and let it fall at my feet. I stood naked in the moonlight.

He whistled through his teeth. — Naked under her dress . I know my puttanella , right?

Even a pair of panties leaves lines, so I went without all night. “No, I'm a good girl,” I said, cupping my breasts with one hand and my pussy with the other.

He pushed his hips against my ass and let me feel his erection through his pants. — You may be a good girl now, but soon you will be a dirty, filthy girl to me. — He moved my hands out of the way and walked in front of me. — No, don't hide.

Let me see her.

I slowly dropped my hands and his eyes swept over me, inspecting me. He trailed his fingertip over the peak of my breast and I arched in
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