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Ms. Levy ... Donna ... is twenty-seven. Sophie is thirty. Nanette is forty. When I look at them, I see incredibly attractive young women. I guess V1 is good for something.I’m exhausted and ready for the weekend.“Did you read the review in yesterday’s newspaper?” Beca asked excitedly when we met for lunch.“I was so stressed about getting my English paper and Literary Journal caught up, I didn’t even see yesterday’s paper,” I said. “Were they good to Cindy?”“Oh, yeah. They thought she was wonderful, a prodigy who could play with any symphony. But they mentioned you, too.” I looked at Beca in disbelief.“Accompanists don’t get mentioned in reviews,” I stated flatly. That isn’t how the music business works.“Look at this,” she said, holding out the newspaper. She’d circled the last paragraph of the review. “Marvel broke the recital mold when she turned to her partner, Jacob Hopkins, for the ‘Ladeado Tango.’ The encore of ‘Mozart in Hell’ was outstanding. This reviewer is looking forward to. I tasted myself on her lips as she moved her mouth against mine.Her hands moved to my shoulders as she pushed me down, signalling for me to drop to my knees. I knelt in front of her, my face level with her skirt. In took a matter of seconds for the zip to slide down and the skirt to drop to her ankles. My fingers gripped the cheap black tights and her knickers and pulled them both down to her ankles in one go.I licked my lips as I looked at her pussy. The triangle of red curls pointing to her sex. Her lips were swollen, glistening, a dewdrop visible.I leant forward and licked. The flat of my tongue rasped slowly over her slit. Her response was to spread her legs, grip my hair, and she shoved my face deeper between her legs.She rode my face. Her hand was in my hair, rubbing my face over her. I could feel her curls rub against my face, my nose and cheeks reddening as she ground herself against me. I curled my tongue into a little tube and pushed it inside her. I felt her stiffen and.
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