Peter felt he knew Petra as well as if they were born and raised together despite that he met and became consumed with love for his Georgian beauty in a matter of seven months. He could read her moods, the subtle changes that she exhibited, like a psychic reading auras. He marveled at how she could be intense with him, but at the same time, so completely feminine and innocent, letting Peter’s genetic need to dominate and protect take wing. Such two dynamic women embodied in a lithe form. Peter could also read her body, the signals she gave with the twitching of her legs, the contractions and flexing of muscle, the pace of her breath. Those signs were his conductor that orchestrated her orgasms.

Petra fully stroked his shaft as she road his mouth, her hand rising up until she palmed his head and twisted. She repeated it twice, urging his own orgasmic dam to burst. Then her own pleasure rose to the apex, and she stopped, squeezing her own breasts and pinching her nipples between the crevices of her fingers.