Unveiling the Greatest Longing: Part 1
The hidden passion within me was finally bursting out, engulfing my body and soul.
I shared my innermost desires with him, and in return, he revealed the elegant deity within me, changing me forever...
Chapter 1
Elza
This was my last night in Venice, and leaving all the thrilling experiences I'd had in Italy behind was heartbreaking. With each passing day, my thoughts of returning home weighed on my heart. I had no one waiting for me there.
My ex-boyfriend Luke called things off a couple of weeks before our trip. Again, he didn't offer an explanation that made any sense, just, "It's not you, it's me."
We'd gotten together on a dating app. I know, not your typical romantic tale, but we'd seemed to click.
He professed his love for me just weeks before breaking up with me. Can you imagine how bewildering that was?
Luke cut off all communication with me. There were no explanations, no apologies, not a single trace of remorse for leading me on.
He disappeared like a ghost. I needed answers. If even a simple "we're not compatible" would've sufficed, I'd have been content. A little closure would've gone a long way.
I'd been anticipating this vacation since spring, and our breakup shattered my dreams.
But then I thought, "What better way to forget my pain than to brave the dating scene? It's my last night here, why not meet someone new?"
Luke was the last guy who told me he loved me before breaking up. So here I was, using this app to explore the possibilities.
Monica and I had a fantastic time exploring the sights, swimming, and going to the beaches. The food was divine, the drinks so rich in flavor. Visiting Italy was a dream for both of us, and we cherished every minute here.
However, vacation couldn't last forever, and our final day had arrived. The prospect of going home disappointed me. Back to reality I'd have to face the aftermath of my tumultuous relationship.
"Should we do something special for our last night?" I asked Monica.
She was tired and longing for home. "I want to relax and rest. You're welcome to leave if you wish," she said.
Monica had caught a cold, and understandably so. While she felt at ease, I couldn't bear the thought of spending my last night in this beautiful city cooped up in a hostel room.
Rather, I planned to find myself someone to share the remaining hours with me.
I opened the dating app, intent on finding a man worthy of my presence. The sea of desperate conversations bored me. I was almost ready to give up when...
"What's your favorite ice cream flavor?" read a message on my screen.
Honestly, ice cream is one of my favorite things! As soon as I saw that message, I felt a profound yearning for companionship.
"My heart longs for chocolate, while you?" I inferred his love for chocolate ice cream.
"Chocolate is delicious, but it's not my favorite dessert," he confessed.
This man was named Gérard, and he was from France. He and his friend had traveled to Italy for their vacation and were in need of excitement before heading back to their homeland.
Thankfully, they were staying in separate rooms, and both expressed interest in meeting more locals.
My thoughts ran wild as I prepared for our date. I longed for a man's touch, craving to fill the void left from my painful past.
"Shall we play a game then?" Gérard proposed in a message.
"Absolutely," I agreed eagerly.
"What type of game are we talking about here?" I answered and took another glance at his profile picture. He had brown hair and green eyes that seemed to invite me to indulge in their desires.
"This game focuses on revealing our deepest longings," he revealed. "You'll share one of yours first, and I'll follow suit."
The conversation was even more tantalizing than I anticipated. I wasn't entirely sure what desires he had in mind, nor how far I should share my own. As a twenty-year-old, my experience with physical pleasures was scarce. But here I was, willing to talk about my most deep-seated urges as if I fully understood them.
"I find neck kisses particularly pleasurable," I started.
"That's not your most profound desire," he countered. "You deceived me!"
I pondered over revealing my fantasies. I'd never disclosed them before, partly because I was unsure if I could trust him and partly due to my inexperience with unrestrained passions.
I knew why I hesitated.
I'd once tried to discuss my fantasies with him, but he laughed them off, saying I'd been influenced by "50 Shades of Grey."
Why was I even with this guy?
Despite his loyal persona and considerate gestures, he often wore a mask, making it hard to tell if he was genuine or merely playing at being a good guy.
Losing control was my greatest desire, something I'd known for a while. Yet, I'd never shared any of this with him. Given our forthcoming date in different countries, I felt more at ease being candid.
"I enjoy it when a man takes charge without asking for permission," I admitted.
He attempted to bait me further, "If I were to kiss you, would you reciprocate?"
My smile couldn't be containable. "I would, but first ensure you smell great," I teased him. It was a weakness of mine: the scent of a man wearing pleasant cologne.
Monica, my roommate, glanced at me, possibly sensing the change in my demeanor. "Elza, I can tell you're about to go on a date. Forget about Luke, he's not worth the mental space. Just be cautious!"
I reassured her, "I'll take care."
I checked my phone for a message, and there was one from Gérard: "Don't worry, I have a good perfume on."
"Show me you're into it," he challenged.
"I'll disclose more about my desires when we meet face-to-face," I said, refusing to give up my cards just yet.
Gérard
It was my first day in Italy for a brief holiday without my partner. Seeing as I'd never traveled solo, I looked forward to new experiences.
However, in my heart, I was anguished.
My girlfriend, Béatrice, betrayed me just a week ago. For over a month, she'd been carrying on an affair with my close friend, Mark.
One evening, we watched a film together when she stepped away to prepare snacks. When I reached for my phone, I noticed Béatrice's mobile lying next to it.
"Do you want to ditch Gérard and come over for some fun?" a message from Mark read.
Something didn't seem right. Why would she run over to his place in the middle of the night? It didn't add up.
"I want to taste your lips," read another message.
I wasn't naive. I recognized what had transpired. It was heart-wrenching to learn about the betrayal of two individuals who held significant importance in my life. My girlfriend and best friend seemed intent on deception, ignoring how their actions affected me.
"What have you been up to?" I confronted Béatrice.
She confessed, remorsefully admitting the affair between her and my friend.
"It was a mistake," she apologized. "I should've told you."
But how could she expect me to ignore what I stumbled upon? It was sheer arrogance.
Gérard
I recently arrived in Italy for my first solo trip. I was excited about the adventures this journey would bring since I'd never traveled alone before.
In reality, I was consumed by anger. My girlfriend, Béatrice, had been cheating on me. Her lover, Mark, had been sleeping with her for about a month. They'd both remained silent about it.
While watching a movie, Béatrice left to prepare some snacks. That's when I noticed my phone ringing. However, it was my girlfriend's mobile lying next to mine.
"Will you replace Gérard and come to my place for some fun?" a message from Mark read.
This revelation didn't make sense. Why would she go to his place in the late evening? I didn't understand how they could be so deceptive. I was distraught by the betrayal of my partner and best friend.
I confronted Béatrice, and she confessed. "It was a mistake," she said remorsefully. "I should've confessed."
Still, how could she expect me to disregard the evidence? It seemed overshadowed by their thoughtlessness.
The words she spoke held no meaning for me anymore. I could never trust her or Mark again. I swiftly departed from Béatrice's home, thankfully we hadn't moved in together yet.
Since that fateful evening, I'd had no communication with her, but she attempted to reach out. Béatrice contacted not only me, but even my sister. I sent her a message telling her to stop trying to contact me. I needed some time and didn't want her in my thoughts. I'd lost approximately two years with her.
I also hadn't spoken to Mark about the betrayal. He called multiple times, but I didn't answer. It was much more painful since he was my best friend. It could've been any other guy, and it would've been easier to get over.
But it wasn't just any guy; it was my best friend. I couldn't forgive them.
They weren't deserving of my attention, and I didn't want to hear their apologies. I didn't want to see their eyes, I didn't want to hear them, I definitely didn't want to meet them on the street even if our paths crossed. However, living in the same neighborhood made it difficult to avoid them.
I desperately needed a getaway, so I looked up plane tickets and booked a four-day trip to Venice.
It was already late, but I wanted to occupy my thoughts that night. I didn't want to face my emotions. I hoped this trip would help me forget everything about them and move on.
I didn't anticipate meeting an intriguing girl there. I simply needed someone to spend the evening with since I didn't want to be alone. Swiping left and right hastily, I didn't bother to read their bios. I thought, if she looks good, it's enough to make a decision.
The right choice.
One woman had a stunning smile and curly hair. Her name was Elza. Her bio read, "Life is always better with ice cream."
It was amusing to converse with her. I lost track of time. She indeed loved gelato, and I enjoyed how obsessed she was about this dessert.
Unfortunately, she was leaving the following day, but we still had the current evening to occupy. We agreed to meet after a few hours.
But first, I needed to know what kind of woman she was.
I unveiled my renowned "what is your deepest desires" card. This one had always been successful in the past. I hoped it would still work, though.
She started off shy, but I encouraged her to be more forthcoming. Elza was confident enough to admit she enjoys a dominating man in bed. And that's exactly the kind of woman I desired. My card with her deepest desire turned out effectively. However, I kept her my deepest desire a secret, I always enjoy maintaining a mystery I have the power to reveal or not.
"I'll disclose my deepest desire when we meet," I wrote.
"That's not fair," she responded.
"But it's intriguing to possess a puzzle you can reveal in person," I answered.
She seemed feisty, not easily dissuaded. I liked a good challenge! I thought to myself.
"It's my game. You don't comprehend the rules."
I was eager to meet her, having not been on a date in almost 2 years. Although I tried to appear nonchalant, I couldn't help but wonder if I still possessed the courage for it.
I planned to make her my date in Italy, with no complications. It was intended to be a carefree evening. I assured her I'd smell divine, so I took a shower and applied some cologne afterwards.
With merely 20 minutes remaining until our encounter, my phone rang.
It was Mark.
Chapter 2
Gérard
Hey there, Gerard. So, there's something I wanted to chat with you about regarding a situation I found myself in…about your ex who I slept with.
I just listened carefully.
He apologized, saying he was unfaithful to me as our friend. But how could he expect me to forgive him when he kept lying to me for a whole month? I couldn't wrap my head around it.
I questioned him, asking why he'd apologize now if he valued my opinion.
He explained it was a moment of weakness…but I wasn't buying it. If he did care about my thoughts, he'd have never slept with her in the first place.
He continued, asking if we could sit down somewhere and talk this out.
I was stunned. Did he really want to meet me in person? I didn't know how to feel about it. I wanted to move forward and leave him behind, even though a part of me knew he wasn't quite done with me yet.
I sarcastically asked if he was out of his mind, hoping our paths wouldn't cross again. I couldn't forget the betrayal.
I hung up.
I traveled to Italy to forget everything that happened, searching for redemption for both of us. I hoped his calls would stop, and our past would fade into the distance.
But as I checked my phone for missed calls, I saw the time. I was late for my date. And I realized Mark may have ruined my trip – but maybe he'd already ruined my life, so this was just another small setback.
I had to make up for lost time.
I messaged my date, saying I was on my way down the elevator but didn't know where she was.
Thankfully, she agreed to meet as she thought I went home.
I planned our date carefully and bought Italian red wine for our special night, determined to make things right.
I spotted her walking down the street, her red dress shining in the sunlight. My heart skipped a beat.
She stopped suddenly, glancing at her phone before she smirked. I presumed she saw my last text.
"I'm going home, like I said I was," her reply read.
I egged her on, pretending to be disappointed, and she continued her act, acting annoyed until she glanced back and noticed my grins.
"I'm going home now," she wrote, her tone softening a bit.
Hopefully, the rest of my trip to Italy would be great and I'd get past this incident. Right now, though, I had a date to impress, and we were about to start it last-minute.
Elza [Paraphrased]
Gerard, I sat there agape as you spoke about the entire situation with your ex and how something happened between the two of you.
I remained quiet, listening intently.
You admitted to betraying our friendship by sleeping with an ex.
Despite that, you felt remorseful and pleaded forgiveness.
Disgusted, I questioned why you were saying sorry when you knew you'd shattered my trust for a month.
You mumbled something about weakness.
"It couldn't have been that hard to remain loyal," I told you.
Your attempts at excuses fell on deaf ears, my mind running with thoughts of how you'd been deceptive.
I voiced my confusion, insisting you owned up to your mistakes.
Resigning to humbly accept your wrongdoings, you continued to remind me that you felt remorseful.
Then you asked to meet.
I was aghast, half expecting never to see you again.
And yet, I took a trip to Italy to forget.
Part of me still wondered if things would be resolved.
You desperately sought to make amends, but your actions were disingenuous.
"We could meet up," you propositioned.
No chances for forgiveness, I silenced my phone and focused on only one thing: my upcoming date.
I arrived in Italy and worked on healing from the terrible experience with you.
Indeed, I did want the experience but knew you wouldn't be far.
Day by the day, I focused on strengthening my resolve, hoping deep down this was the last straw.
Urgency overwhelmed me as I prepared for a date, but realized – too late! – I would be 30 minutes late.
Suddenly, I found two notifications. One told me she'd left, the other, she'd wait another 15 minutes.
I comforted myself with the gifts I'd bought for our date – a bottle of Italian red wine. But right now, I needed to make it right.
So I apologized, throwing in a destination she couldn't resist: a special place in Venice.
At least, I would try to win her back.
I wished he hadn't ruined another part of my trip, but it seemed life had different plans earlier.
I started to think you had already ruined things years ago.
While I scrambled to meet her, I delighted in fixing my mistakes. No matter what, I had an amazing date ahead.
I was irritated but couldn't suppress my grin. I was glad I wouldn't spend my final moments alone strolling around Venice or with my friend in the hostel. This wasn't something I desired. My last evening had to be remarkable and deserving to be cherished.
"It's not your fault, I just received a call." He seemed genuine, but I didn't want to make it simple for him. He made me wait for thirty minutes without any contact, causing me to think he was catfishing me.
"Well, it's your loss unless you can make amends." He wouldn't have me so quickly.
"I'll show you a distinct location in Venice that you likely wouldn't find without me," he proposed.
"Alright, I'm not that distant. I think I can already see you." I stated.
I witnessed a gentleman approaching me. His gait was self-assured, he had his gaze locked on my eyes. As he neared, he warmly smiled at me, and I reciprocated.
He embraced me, kissed my both cheeks, and greeted me. I could detect his scent. He did smell wonderful.
"I apologize for being late. I had a significant call that I needed to address." Gérard made excuses.
"Be careful. Your special place has to absolve your transgression, so it should be fantastic," I teased somewhat and he laughed.
His voice had deep, rich tones, and I could have listened to them all night. A strong, appealing voice could lure me.
His eyes were even more salacious in person. He looked at me as if he intended to consume me. He might have kissed me then and there, and I wouldn't have been able to resist.
Gérard wore dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt that coordinated with his sneakers.
"You appear stunning, by the way," he complemented me.
"You look handsome too. And you smell terrific, I adore your fragrance," I acknowledged.
"Thank you. I assured you I smell great but you didn't believe me!"
"I had to have a motive to meet you." I laughed.
"I like how you laugh. Your entire face illuminates, and your eyes sparkle."
"Thank you. Let's proceed to your special place now, or was the place a ruse to placate my heart?" I teased him.
"I couldn't lie to such a gorgeous face. Allow me to lead the way."
We were navigating the twisted roads of Venice. Gérard appeared certain, so I had faith in his navigation abilities.
Gérard and I were encircled by countless tourists like us. They were grinning, chatting, and searching for the way.
We were serenaded by street musicians playing romantic Italian music. It felt like a dream or a clichéd film, with two individuals who randomly met in a romantic location...
We conversed about traveling and the countries we had visited.
It had been ten or fifteen minutes since we started walking. I recognized we were near the ocean with just a handful of people around. The shore was made of concrete, and the stairs led down to the sea waves. We sat at the edge, confronting the sea.
"Would you like some wine?" he inquired.
"Wine? Where would we obtain the wine? There are no bars in the area."
"Put a little faith in me, darling," he said, and I saw him removing his leather backpack.
He had a wine bottle concealed inside and two cups.
It was impressive, considering he was late but made amends. He guided me to this tranquil location. I adored the sea, the waves, and the seagulls soaring around.
And he had some wine.
"I was concerned about the wine glasses breaking, so I brought cups instead. I hope it's okay."
"It's ideal." I whispered.
We sipped the wine and conversed. We shared our experiences. He informed me of his girlfriend's infidelity with his friend, and I divulged my breakup.
He was insecure and yearned to leave the past behind. I shared the same sentiments.
We were two souls who encountered each other randomly due to our breakups. Was fate involved? I wasn't convinced by fate.
However, I felt like I'd known Gérard for years, and our discussion had already consumed our time.
My heart was racing, thumping wildly against my chest. Could he hear how loud it was?
"Can I kiss you?" Gérard asked.
"Yes." I breathed out the word softly.
As his lips drew nearer to mine, I closed my eyes. The sensation of his soft kiss sent tingles throughout my body, a pleasant warmth that spread from my fingers all the way to my toes.
The outside world ceased to exist. The murmurs of the gondolier's song melted into the background. We were the only ones in existence, sharing a moment that was entirely ours. Every second felt precious, both unique and unforgettable.
He took his time, grazing his lips gently over mine. I closed my eyes and touched the back of his head, caressing his hair as our tongues danced and tangled, mimicking a waltz on the dance floor.
"Your lips are seductive," I murmured, my admiration evident.
Gérard took my hand and held it firmly. He asked later that night if I wanted to accompany him to his hotel room. And I simply couldn't say no. This was what I had always craved - a chance to feel desired, cared for, and to let go of my worries and the past.
I reveled in the adulation, his intoxicating scent, and the sense of ease that settled over me. How could I resist his silky voice and his perfect frame? Gérard was what I had been searching for; the chance to indulge in temptation, to feel myself again.
We entered his hotel room, where the lights were dimmed, illuminating the wood panelled walls and the unadorned furnishings artfully arranged. We were alone in this sanctuary, here to create our own slice of heaven.
He whispered in my ear, "I don't want this moment to end. Will you join me in my room?"
I never responded faster. I adored the touch of his hands, the thrill of an untamed desire building between us, a chemistry that burned with intensity.
But what began as a fantasy quickly became a reality. The mood was electric and I was ready to bask in it, eager for every touch that would ignite feelings that had only simmered beneath the surface.
The bedroom window showcased the timeless beauty of the Grand Canal, glistening in the night sky. I turned to face him as he moved closer, his lips caressing the back of my neck.
"Your neck is beautiful," he said.
The sensation was heavenly. He licked me slowly and intentionally, his fingers weaving a delicate pattern in my hair.
Gérard's soft lips found mine once more. This kiss was absolute magic. It left me gasping for breath, yearning for more.
I sank into his arms and couldn't hold back the moan of pleasure that escaped my lips.
Our bodies merged, his strong hands running up and down my back, his lips trailing a path over my skin. Without a hesitation he removed my red dress, allowing it to fall around me.
His eyes traveled over my naked body, sending a thrill of excitement through me. I had never felt more beautiful than I did in that moment, as though every inch of me was being celebrated.
Gérard stood before me, handsome and approachable. I couldn't help but feel this was a precursor to something more. Letting go of all that had hindered me before, I surrendered completely.
By the time he crawled into the bed, he was shirtless and I was devoid of clothes. The room glowed with an ambient light, the candles flickering delicately. His touch was tender, but his intentions were increasingly suggestive. He carried me crudely to the bed before cupping my face in his hands.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, and I felt no shame in admitting it.
Finally, his lips kissed every inch of me, smiling and tender, vastly different than the way he had before. He kissed my lips, my neck, my breasts, and then moved lower.
Feeling a sudden surge of urgency, he pulled my hips closer before he kissed my clitoris gently. His tongue circled it in an effortless push and pull, instantly increasing my arousal as his fingers groped between my legs.
His teasing created a tiny, present-day sensation, goosebumps that led me to the brink of ecstasy. With urgency in his gaze, he then watched as his lips met my clitoris.
"Don't think about anything other than your pleasure," Gérard said.
I stopped and hesitated, taking a brief moment to find the confidence.
"You deserve this. This moment is yours. Let go of any guilt and claim your arousal."
And just like that, Gérard transformed my thoughts. My mind was now free, filled only with satisfaction.
He continued to pleasure me, his technique expert and well-tuned, drawing hard breaths from my lips and tightening my grip on his shoulders.
The insistent pressure on my clit drove me ever closer. The heat made me shiver, anticipating the peak of my arousal.
At this time, the sensation wasn't just in my mind. It spread throughout my body cells. I couldn't focus on anything else. Gérard made sure my mind was consumed by this treat; the pleasure of my delight to make the moment even more special.
My excitement was growing, I could feel it approaching. I wondered if I would experience my first orgasm with a man.
"I'm about to climax," I finally confessed, but he abruptly halted everything.
"Not yet, my love," Gérard said as he turned on some music.
I didn't conceal my surprise. How dare he interrupt me just before I reached that height of pleasure?
"Why?" I almost yelled.
"I assure you, it will be worth waiting," Gérard teased.
I didn't want to wait, but what choice did I have?
Now, he was lying beside me. I turned to kiss him and slid my hands down his muscular body. I reached his manhood and began to gently stroke it. It was already hard and I was positive he wanted me to speed up. But I couldn't restrain myself from seeking a little revenge for denying me the chance to climax before.
"It seems you're stroking me slowly on purpose," I mumbled to myself.
"Perhaps," I chuckled and gave him a defiant look.
"No, no, my dear. You aren't allowed to play with me like that."
"Why am I not allowed?" I asked, perplexed.
He chuckled and stopped my hand from stroking.
"Well, you confided in me that you like to be controlled, don't you?"
"Yes..." I whispered, embarrassed.
He tenderly stroked my cheek, took my chin with his hand, and made eye contact.
"So, allow me, Elza. Let me control you. I promise you'll experience the greatest pleasure. As long as you want me to, I won't do anything without your approval."
These words uttered in a soft voice had me craving to surrender. Yes, I yearned to be controlled and let go of control a bit, I told him that. I trusted him. Gérard said he would never do anything that wasn't what I wished him to. That was comforting.
"Yes, I'll let you control me. What should we do next?"
"Firstly, I'd like you to show me your oral techniques."
Right... My oral techniques... The truth be told, I've never found pleasure in sucking a penis. I couldn't comprehend how one could find joy in willingly breathing in something so dirty.
However, it wasn't the most frightful aspect.
It was not knowing if my "techniques", as Gérard called them, were up to his standards. The men I've been with communicated little during intercourse or about it. I didn't know if Gérard would approve of my "skills".
"Don't be anxious. I'll be your support," I heard the soothing words from Gérard. "Begin, my love."
I wrapped my mouth around his erect member and began sucking. With each repetition, I loosened up. He was moaning silently.
"Good..." he groaned. "Now use your little tongue."
I applied his instructions. As I continued, I found myself having arousal from pleasuring him. It was an unusual and new sensual experience I enjoyed.
I realized I loved sucking his penis, feeling its flavor and girth in my mouth. I closed my eyes to appreciate the moment fully. A few moments later, I felt his hands around my head and neck.
"Don't be frightened," he advised.
Gérard kept my head firmly in place and began fucking my mouth with intensity. I struggled to breathe for a while but he continued to use my mouth with force. He was handling my head, pushing it further down on his cock and deeper into his silky manhood.
While I was sucking, my tongue was doing its own thing. I circled it around the tip of his cock and introduced my saliva to heighten the experience. He was leading me, I was entirely under Gérard's command.
I felt his excitement and enjoyed the sensation.
My mind went blank. I questioned how he could understand my hidden tendencies?
"Do you enjoy me using your mouth like that?" Gérard inquired and then momentarily stopped.
"Yes, I do... like it," I panted.
"Wonderful. Now, I'm leaving you to continue on your own. I only have one request; maintain eye contact with me while you're sucking my penis."
Although it appeared to be a simple task, I realized how challenging it was.
I was gazing into his deep green eyes filled with desire, as he kept his unwavering eye contact on me. I couldn't resist, my eyes kept lowering, but he always urged me to look up at him.
It was intimate, and it made me feel increasingly vulnerable.
"Are you a good girl or a naughty girl?" Gérard inquired. [
If you need further clarification, just ping me! :)
I seemed a bit dazed, deep inside I knew my identity, all I had to do was acknowledge it to him.
"I'm a nice girl."
He beamed at me contentedly, and I could sense his delight with my reply.
It was sensual and exposed me. But it also turned me on to voice my admission myself.
"Am I your nice girl for the night?" sought out Gérard.
"I shall be." I genuinely wanted to be his as I was utterly enamored by Gérard's allure.
I could sense his gratification in my form, his triumph was my ecstasy. The more he became excited, the more damp I became and relished this sensation.
"If you are my nice girl, who am I, though?" I didn't foresee that question.
I fixed my gaze on him and blushed. I didn't understand what he desired from me.
"I'm your Master for tonight," Gérard commanded authoritatively.
I decided to go along with his directive. My body and mind couldn't defy him.
"You are my Master," I acknowledged and continued sucking his penis.
The dynamic had modified. As though it was my task to please him that evening as his nice girl. I endeavored to provide the finest performance I could, I wanted him to be proud of me, to be proud of his cherished nice girl.
Read also:
- Yes, Darling
- Madam Inanna's Life in FLR Continues: Part 2
- Day Two of The One-Way Voyage
- Julie Attends a Wedding: Part 12
Source: www.nice-escort.de
