So we get it on, and he licked me like how a dog licks its master. To a point that it disgusted me. Then he raise up my right arm and started sniffing my armpit. His tongue curled and twirled as it aimed for my right armpit. He licked me in a swift, tasted my pits and continued licking them for the next 10 minutes. My Dolby NR and THX sound system suddenly cracked and went silent. No more sound, gone mute. I no longer yearn for his f*cking thick italian sausage to rip me apart. I just want to chop off the sausage and feed it to the dogs. I hated the feeling of being licked at my ARMPIT. I HATE IT! Well, thank you I know I am a great sweet smelling goddess with zero bad pit-fume, but it was freaking weird. The best part is he was actually enjoying it!
As I was devising an escape plan, my phone (thank you God!) rang and i rushed to pick it up. He insisted I should stay put at the position (put up arm high) so he can continue to lick me, but I retracted my arms and retorted i need to pick up this call.
Within 30 seconds I was dressed, pick up my handbag and said my goodbye at the door. I left him standing speechless. It felt like a good spanking for licking my armpits.
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I saw the same italian sausage at Attica two months later and I pretended not to see him while he looked at me with bitterness. Evil Laughter*
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