How does Misha make me forget to think
Misha takes his time.
His finger gently running down the middle of you; forehead to cunt, a straight, slow line that does more than any kiss every will. He draws your attention fully to that single finger as it climbs up and down the curve of your nose, dips softly between your lips, glides down the column of your throat. He keeps his pace steady, blue eyes on yours as they start to relax, the focus clearly shattered, irises glazing over. He listens to your breath start to calm as his finger reaches the valley of your breast, sees the deep inhale while he continues down towards your navel. Your shoulders relax, head gently rolling when he hits your lower belly, and he knows he’s got you ready to let go.
By the time his finger dips inside your pussy, you’re already soaked and empty, your mind turning off for just a little while. Misha smiles proudly as he settles between your thighs and eases your lips apart, his big tongue jutting out to taste just how relaxed and hungry you really are.
