Morning Ritual

Morning sun cuts across the sheets. Little Caprice stretches, bare and warm, her skin carrying the faint salt of last night’s sea air. Marcello lies beside her, eyes half-open. She rolls onto him without hurry. Her mouth finds his cock, soft at first, then wet and greedy, tongue tracing every ridge until he thickens against her lips. She shifts, swinging one slim thigh over his face, and sinks lower so her smooth pussy meets his tongue. They settle into a slow 69, each lost in the other’s taste, breathing turning ragged. Her ass hovers above him, cheeks spread by his hands. One fingertip circles her tight rim, pressing, testing. He sinks it in, gentle but steady, and she moans around his cock, the sound low and needy. She rocks back onto his finger, taking it deeper, then pulls off his length to taste herself on him. Her lips slide back down, slicker now, spit shining along the shaft. He adds a second finger, stretching her slow and careful. The morning air grows thick with wet sounds and soft gasps. She rides his tongue and fingers in rhythm, body tightening, every movement unhurried, deliberate, building toward something that neither of them wants to rush.