<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>The Glaze Bakery<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Teeny triangle bikini, see thru cover up, crown of flowers<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Rachel, Open<br/><br/>Behind the worry-free smile of a woman getting exactly what she wanted, Innocenza's mouth watered. Try though she might to occupy her seat with poise and dignity, once that cock went erect over her food there was an animal, instinctive reaction. Her joints softened, her limbs felt elastic, that queer sensation of melting for someone, and her narrow back curved until it was the table supporting the weight of her breasts. The skin exposed between the tiny strings of her bikini were sensitive to the buffet of air thrown off Rachel's pumping hand.<br/><br/>"Mixing bowl, yes, I see. It isn't pure cum, then." For a while she contemplated this, lost in thought staring at Rachel's drooling beast. A foot long, a whole foot. Her imagination ran away with how it might find purchase in her body, how it might<em>make </em>her fit. "Yes, that makes sense. Pure cum is too fickle, I suppose. It might just run all over, so you have to tame it." Still she was staring, plucking a plump bottom lip with her finger. Watching the arousal trickle and then drip a dab of pearly white was hypnotic; she could watch it again and again.<br/><br/>A wad rolled down the edge of her pie, and the most delicate scoop of her finger collected it. She let the sheer chiffon fall from her shoulders as she did, around the creamy quiver of breasts made to rest on the unrelenting table. "I have a weakness for sinful desserts, you see." It was almost too much to balance on her finger, but she brought it to her mouth, and... waited for just a moment too long. What a tragic accident to let it plop right onto the fat of her breast and slowly follow its contour. But, that was okay- the girls were fair game. It would be unreasonable to expect a girl with a foot-long beast to have perfect aim.<br/><br/>Patiently occupying whatever fantasy fueled Rachel's public masturbation, she waited for the right signs. The shortness of breath, the redness, the tension. Was Rachel close? Under the table, perfectly pedicured toes teased their way up the woman's thigh softly as a whisper. "I want you to cum fiercely for me, Rachel. You've seen a hundred pretty girls this morning, and I want all that frustration plastered all over my snack. Dripping over every inch. Nothing would make me harder, and do you know what I do when I'm hard?" The lyrical Italian accent became more pronounced when she spoke from such a primitive place. "I take impertinent girls into the back room, bikini bottoms to the ankles, and I stuff them like cream puffs."