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A well-dressed, starched-shirt businessman answers the door. He smiles, introduces himself again, and pushes Sophia out the door. I notice she is limping, and she does not smile at me when I walk her out to the car. "Sophia, what is wrong?" I ask, concerned. She shakes her head, biting her lip, and glances towards the house. Her father is watching from the door, arms folded, a frown on his face. I open the car door for her, and she scoots in beside Val. I get in, and close the door. Val insisted on sitting in the backseat with us, saying that Sophia can lay across both our laps. She does this, her head in my lap and her long, shapely legs in Val's. I notice her wincing as she stretches out on her back. "Seniora, tell me what is wrong," I say, stroking her cheek. Her eyes fill with tears, and she winces again. "I don't think...I mean...Maybe we shouldn't..." She mumbles, dropping her eyes. Val and I share a look. She is in pain, and she won't tell us. "Flip her over." Says Val, and. Rather, he spoke only with his eyes as he slowly reached for her, his strong hand gently trailing along her jaw and down in between the valley of her breasts. Then his caress became a command, a subtle gripping of her waist, and with one fluid, easy motion he guided her over onto her stomach, her hair spilling into her face, a small cry of surprise and delight escaping her lips. His mouth against the back of her neck was hot and sensuous, kissing down her spine in a slow torturous trail. Her shoulders, her back….slow, open-mouthed, scorching kisses that ignited her senses wherever they fell. As though the skin beneath his roaming lips was the most decadent of tastes. Her nipples hardened against the blanket beneath her and she squirmed, trying in vain to sate the wet desire that surged between her legs.Still, he said nothing. But his hands began to wander the length of her, curving gently over her ass, squeezing her flesh in a grip so possessive, so firm and unyielding. She was his..
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