He spoke into her ear again, not today, Reina. Dillon and Reina had met several nights ago at the teen-whore house in downtown Kiev, and Dillon suspected that encounter had changed the young, expensive hooker’s mind. Dillon grunted. Her arms gave out, and she fell forward onto the bed, planting her face in the ruffled blanket, wiggling her ass. She was good, he thought to himself, commending her silently, and throwing her backward onto the bed roughly. He longed to feel her skin, feel her move under his hands, feel her warmth, feel her fine young body. As Dillon further explained his plan, a smile slowly spread across the gangster’s face, though it was a cautious one. She was striking, Masha and Dillon agreed. “Dillon…oh” He tickled her little clit, teasing it, and lightly pinching her erect nipple. She wiggled her wide delicate hips, and spread her legs for him. Wary, Dillon rose to his knees. He slammed in and out of her bruisingly hard, and ground down on her again. She came and came, expending energy
