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Victor Cristiano - Buenos Aires: part 1

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Victor Cristiano - Buenos Aires: part 1

Each lick of his incredibly talented tongue pushes intense sounds of pleasure out of my lungs into the surrounding darkening night.

By Michelle Malou

The light of the sun barely reaches past the curve of the earth, but the heat of the day still lingers enough to drain the sweat out of my body. My forehead is slightly moist and the humidity keeps hindering its evaporation. A sublime feeling, as just twenty-four hours prior, I was surrounded by snow and tissues filled with my tears and snot.

My now ex-boyfriend left me for another woman two days before our anniversary. After three weeks of failed emotional purging, I decided to try to heal my wounds in the southern hemisphere. Buenos Aires to be precise. Just over 10.000 km and two glasses of Malbec later, it finally feels like I am not completely drowning in my own sorrow anymore.

I am sitting alone at the bar and with my long blond hair and pale blue eyes, it does not take long before I am spotted. A man, with long dark hair in a knot and a nicely trimmed beard, nonchalantly sits down next to me at the bar. “Do you speak English?” he asks me. “Yes, indeed,” I answer and am slightly annoyed it is that obvious I am a gringa. “My name is Victor,” he says with a smile and obvious Spanish accent. “Bianca” I say and immediately receive a kiss on my cheek that makes it blush. When he moves back to his original position, we don’t say anything and just look at each other for a while. His face is quite masculine, but his dark eyes are gentle, revealing a caring man behind them and for the first time in three weeks, I feel like I can breathe again. “Come” he says, grabs my hand and leads me out of the bar into the dusk of the city.

 

While we lose ourselves in a passionate kiss on the rooftops of Buenos Aires, the first sparks of a fire between my legs ignite. “Oh, Victor” I moan softly.

 

While we stroll through the streets of Buenos Aires, the earth has turned further and the last light completely vanishes, as do my worries. Victor turns out to be a painter living in Buenos Aires for the past ten years. He is living in a house with artists ranging from writers to sculptors. “Here it is”, he proudly says and gestures my attention to the front of the infamous artist house. Immediately he talks me up to the roof, which as he explains is the highlight of the house, and he is absolutely right. The rooftop terrace is huge with loads of plants, art installations, and a magnificent view over the city. I walk over to the edge, wrap my hands around the railing and lean over it as to take in the city more intensively. A deep breath fills my lungs with the warm air. At that moment, his hand frees my neck from my blond hair, like a window from its curtain and gently starts to kiss it. My eyes close and my consciousness moves to the spot under his lips. At that moment, I make an agreement with myself not to over-think anything and to let things take their natural course. My body should be radiating with the consent and he responds. Slowly, with one hand on each side, he removes the halters of my dress off my shoulders. With the agreement in mind, I do not stop my body when it wants to turn around and place my lips on his. Before I do, I hold his face in between my hands and imprint his kind gaze onto my awareness. While we lose ourselves in a passionate kiss on the rooftops of Buenos Aires, the first sparks of a fire between my legs ignite. “Oh, Victor” I moan softly.

 

Each lick of his incredibly talented tongue pushes intense sounds of pleasure out of my lungs into the surrounding darkening night.

 

My body seems to flush with horniness I had forgotten I could feel and slowly I let his hands undress my body from the , by now completely unnecessary, layer of clothes. With only my heels still on, I walk backwards, leans my ass against the still relatively cold railing and spread my legs, implicitly telling him to fuck any pain away. My eyes wander to his crotch, which indicates the intensity of his arousal, and wonder when he will start to unbutton his pants. Instead, he walks over to me and slowly lets his hands explore the parts of my body previously covered, leisurely making his way to my cunt, which is burning with desire. His fingers separate my lips from each other and reveal the wetness that has formed between them, while at the same time I can feel the hardness of his cock on my leg and his teeth gently grabbing the skin and flesh on my neck. The air is being filled with sounds of my pleasure that are continuing to get louder, each time his fingers slide back towards the hole yearning to be filled and teasingly back up again. While his finger circles around my pounding clit his kisses and bites move downwards. He gets on his knees and lets the tip of his tongue run over both my groins. Slowly he moves to the middle and lets the wetness merge with that on my slick clit. Each lick of his incredibly talented tongue pushes intense sounds of pleasure out of my lungs into the surrounding darkening night. I can’t help my body from shaking when he slips one finger inside of me and messages my g-spot with conviction. My fingers have vanished in his long brown and my nails have started to embed themselves in the surface of his scalp. With his hair as handles for my hands, I pull his face up to mine when I feel I am on the edge, but not ready to go over yet. “I want your dick to make me come,” I tell him, while my hands let go of his face and start removing his trousers in a rapid manner.

 

His exhales get caught by my neck and are becoming faster and hotter, while his trusts are slowly becoming more aggressive and deep.

 

The change of temperature and scenery has made me completely forget about my heartache and all I can think about is wanting more of Victor. With no patience left inside of me, I open his blouse without unbuttoning it and let my hands follow the shape of his muscular body down to his gorgeous penis. Carefully I take it into my hands and gently guide it into the direction of my womanly treasure. Shortly I let the head of his dick meet with my clit before he enters deeply and completely with one smooth push. Reviving my confidence and femininity with each of his movements. As wanting to savor each push, he withdraws completely, before sliding back in. Making the visits at the end of my slippery tunnel shorter each time he does. My arms feel thin and tiny when they try to engulf his strong body. His muscles are tense and his skin moist from strain. His exhales get caught by my neck and are becoming faster and hotter, while his trusts are slowly becoming more aggressive and deep. My eyes are closed, but his deepest push opens them up and I feel my body stiffen. Suddenly my gaze is caught by that of a man watching us from the other side of the roof. “Victor” I whisper and gesture him to look in the same direction as I am. “Cristiano?” Victor asks slightly shocked. Cristiano mouth stays shut and with a gaze of that of a predator who has spotted a helpless prey he walks slowly, but determinately, into our direction. 

 

 

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