<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/03/Innocenza1mug.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Innocenza Immacolata Bianca Castellesi<br/><strong>Role:</strong>Tourist<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Cafe<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Silk top, bell skirt, summer heels, Saffiano handbag<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Yin, Lynn, Ren, Open<br/><br/>Innocenza refused to use her fingers when just her mouth would suffice. Italian was made to be consumed this way, unrestrained and passionate, with whorls of pasta that only slipped from a fork and spaghetti strings that couldn't be held. It was meant to be exercise for a limber mouth, and sushi seemed no different. Her head brushed Ren's as she searched out a morsel from Yin's tender tummy. "Mm." She didn't try very hard to grasp the small puck of sushi wrap. Instead she nudged it across the skin, leaving a cool trail and chasing it with tiny kisses. This was making her far too hard. Her palm clapped to the table for balance and out of frustration, wanting nothing more than to ruin Yin for the day, put marks on her which would necessitate a change out of that skimpy cheongsam.<br/><br/>A napkin dabbed her mouth when she pulled back, though there was hardly a dot to clean. It was the triplets which were drooling, pearling with beads of desire, still flush from the pumping of Yin's hand, but she wouldn't touch them at all. Her thighs were tight together. "Sounds like you've already had a spot of fun. My plane just came in, so I have yet to cut loose. I trust you'll forgive me, if I get a little... indulgent... with our hostess."<br/><br/>There was a purr in the softness of her lips as she stole a lean cut artfully laid across a nipple. The cool fish dragged, like an icy tongue, and Ms. Castellesi's own tongue replaced it. She admired with the very tip of her tongue how firm and defined the cold fish had made Yin's nipple, and as she bowed into this delicate work, the weight of one of the triplets pressed across Yin's still fingers. The heat was oppressive, feverish. A string of spit connected her to the server's pink areola when she paused to murmur. "I'm reading your fortune, China girl." A lick to the very tip broke the strand. "It says: A blonde strainger is going to nail your ass to the wall. But, I'm willing to share, hm? You might be surprised how many cocks can stretch a single hole."