EXTRACT FOR
Isabel's Lust
(Ciana Rose)

We soon reach the poorer end of town, where there are far less tourists, restaurants, and lights.



Carlo catches me counting my blessings when he suddenly grabs me by the arm and drags me into a narrow passageway.  "Come here."  Pinning my back to the white cement wall, his kiss is so passionate it singes my lips.  In just an instant, he has been able to poise my body for unconditional submission to him.

He gropes me almost barbarically.  I am comforted with this glimpse of his unruly desire.  Temporary weakness in a man who holds this much power over me is reassuring--he has a heart.



His hand slides under my skirt swiftly; then his finger slides into the crevice where I burn for him the most.  I moan deeply, as I have hungered for this particular contact for an eternity of two days.



Carlo`s intense eyes bore into mine while he fucks me with his finger.  I push my hips forward and receive his offering, gratified and eager.



"That`s it, give me your pussy."



My legs turn to rubber.  He prevents me from collapsing by recapturing my mouth with his.  His tongue invades to mimic his finger in motion and doubles my pleasure.



Carlo takes the entire fifteen seconds he needs to work me into a depraved panting lunatic then slowly withdraws his hand from between my legs.  "Let`s see what you taste like?"



Fascination overshadows my disappointment as I watch him take the length of his long glistening finger into his mouth then suction it out slowly.

"Like sugar," he declares after the sampling.



His hand returns to my crotch and as he reinserts his finger, his fixed gaze is a clear conveyance that he will take as he pleases.  To be honest, prevention never crossed my mind.  I welcome the intrusion with a sigh and barge head-on into the igniting sensations his strokes create.



"My finger feel good?" he gloats.  With an arrogant raise of an eyebrow, he pushes deeper, leans closer, and speaks more softly.  "Just think how my cock`s going to feel?"



"Ohhh."



The man does not beat around the bush, does he?



Once more Carlo hurls my needs into a tizzy then removes his hand, abruptly this time.  He brings his finger to his nose, gives it a cursory sniff then inhales more deeply.  "Mmmm," he moans, his sense of smell pleased.  "Here, see what you smell like on my finger."



The intimacy he suggests brings an overwhelming urge to taste myself, but when I attempt to do so, he moves his finger just out of my reach.  My tongue darts out in challenge, only to be thwarted repeatedly.



"So, you want to taste yourself, huh?"  Thoroughly amused, he smears my feminine juices against my lips.  "I`ll let you have a better taste when I`ve had my face buried in it for a while.  Just imagine how strong that`s going to be when we kiss."



Yes, imagine.



I should have learned to expect Carlo`s abrupt changes but I have not yet.  In the next instant, I find myself still pinned to the wall but now I am facing it.  He holds my head pressed to the stucco with one hand and slips his other arm under my hips.  With a rough jerk, he moves my legs farther back and forces my spine into an arch.



"You like getting it from behind?"



Provocative images flood my mind and my rear strains outward even more, fully prepared to bring the images to life.  "Mmm, I do," I confirm what my body is already implying so boldly.



"Good."  Carlo keeps his hand against my head but moves to stand more to my side.  "Lift up your skirt for me."



I am afraid of being caught by a passerby but my hand reaches back anyway.  I doubt Carlo means to take me on the street but even if he does, he can.  Slowly, plagued by the image of my panties around my thighs, I hoist my skirt to expose my rear to him.  It is so embarrassing, and such a turn on!



Carlo keeps his arm hooked around my tummy but releases my head to rub my bare cheeks.  "Isabel, you want me to fuck you?"



Does he need to ask?



"I do, Carlo."  My voice quivers.



He reaches underneath and strokes my mons lightly.  "But, baby, wanting is not good enough."  Without compunction, he adds, "I like my cunt to be starving for my fuck."



Oh myyy!



He clarifies his expectations further, teasing my center at the same time, his attitude as casual as though he is flipping through the pages of a magazine that does not interest him, "You`re going to have to ask for it."



Never mind ask--the directive is enough to make me beg.  And on that note, my body goes to work, pleading its hunger with enticing undulations.



"Yea, that`s nice.  But..."  With calculated control, Carlo`s fingers promptly massage a more frank display of my desire, where my body and voice plead jointly.  "There, that`s better."



"Carlo, please--"



"Much, much better."  And speaking, he slowly removes his hand and lowers my skirt.



I turn around, and to my horror, I see his fire has diminished.  Cast in stone, I will get no more.  Convinced this torture will end my existence I begin to whine.



He draws me into his embrace and again reaches under my skirt.  His fingers stroke me lightly externally, like feather.  It calms the intensity, but not the need.



"Why, Carlo?  You know how hungry I am for you."  I truly cannot understand this.



"No, baby, you don`t know what hunger is yet.  But you will."



Oh my, Oh my.