Pink fabric hangs everywhere, and I watch Miss Celine, dark hair and black lingerie, climb onto the mattress where Marco lies waiting. She doesn't ask; she simply steps up. He has been hoping for this since the moment she walked in, and now her bare feet are on his head, trampling him with slow, teasing weight. Is it strict? Maybe. Does he love it? Every second. When she finally lowers her soles to his mouth, he holds her foot in both hands and licks with pure hunger. Celine smiles, knowing she owns him completely.

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