HIGH CLASS ESCORT, CORTIGIANNA

High-Class Escort, Cortigianna Behind the facade of well made face and sensual manners, behind the walls of elaborately designed paintings, is me. The lonely Cortigianna. There is only one thing that makes me amused, that is to see the crimes in Florence flourish under my feet. Seizing this era when men viewed women as mere ornaments. The same reason why they take short-term delight with our young bodies. Though these simple whims become addition. With a little comfort here and there and a little flirtatious touch everywhere, men bends their knee into obsession. With this, a word from a favoured mouth turns into an idea and an idea turns into motivation. Using a few pawns to move the board, that pinch of motivation turns into malice for a much fearsome crime. Leaving no trace of my involvement. "Lady Cortigianna, Lord Besmonde requests you for the night." I remember correctly that Lord Besmonde has taken in a young servant, exploited her. When news broke out about his scandal, he pointed his finger at her and shamelessly accused her of seducing him. The young girl could not defend herself and shame piled over her. With tremendous despair, she hanged herself after telling her story in a piece of paper. I retrieved the last piece of evidence from my loyal costumer too. Men, such entitlement bestowed upon by birth and gender, willing to be fooled? "Let him in." I smiled. He came in with his usual air of arrogance. With only a spider’s silk to restrain his libido, he rushed to me. Barely even waiting for my servant to close the door. "Shall we take this somewhere, Lord Besmonde?" I said. Touching him in his side. Of course I know he’ll get more hungry if I do this. Making him hungrier, clouding his mind a little more. He didn’t listen, he grabbed my skirt up and fumbled his stubby fingers through my thighs and rubbed his fatty legs against the fabric of my womanhood. This should be the perfect time for Count Cortier to come barging in but I suppose he’s late. I pushed him a little. He didn’t like it and he knocked me down on the floor. The loud crash as I hit the floor and broke my vase somehow had magic and Count Cortier slammed the door open. For a little acting, I covered my br3ast. Cortier is a possessive man and he is the murder of a craftsman Antoine. A little less of criminals if their hatred leads turns to crimes right? Besmonde left and Cortier helped me up. We sat while we drank tea. "Thank you. Count Cortier. Your valor is admirable. You always come when someone needs help." I smiled my rehearsed smile. He stayed agitated as he kept on clacking his boots against my floor. "Allow me to provide service." I said, running my fingers on his arm to his bicep to his shoulder and to uis chest as I sat on his lap. Cortier is no better man than Besmonde when it come to his drive. He easily falls for small flirting. He accepted the offer and cupped one generous hand on my bum under my gown. He’s growing hard under his pants and I put more effort into kissing him while he puts more effort in robbing my clothes. He had become a little expert in doing so because he had done it more than I could count with my fingers. He place both my thighs on either side of his hips as he undid his pants. He pushed me over the tea table and he rubbed his p3nis against my *****, coating his d1ck with my pvssy juice. He ****** his c0ck desperate to cvm. I can feel his veinous shaft throbbing inside my womb. "Oh, ughhh! You really know where to touch me Count Cortier." I moaned as he rubbed my cl1t. The pressure drives me insane. I had to hold on the edge to keep myself from thrashing my arms around. I clamped my knees together but he caught them and spread them wider apart. I dug my heels to his back and he rocked his hips faster and with more force I think he’s squashing my cvnt. I hear his balls slapping against my asscrack as I feel my cvm flooding. I lifted my hips and he buried his shaft deep and released his load of cvm. My body shivers and convulsed as the sensation started to when away. He smiled and there I know he wants more. He flipped me on my stomach and raised my *** into the air. He slapped one hand counting. One, two- I moaned as he slapped me there the fifth time. He massaged my swollen *** and he parted the cheeks apart before he entered me anally. I had always liked this position but only Count Cortier knows that. Afterall, religion and culture doesn’t always agree with me. After that seemingly endless cycle of fvcking and cvmming, we both dressed and fixed our hair. Upon parting, he bowed his head and bid farewell. "I hope you visit again." I smailed and bowed. The day after that, he sent gifts of antique vases and some jewelries. News broke out that the feud between Count Cortier and Lor Besmonde had gotten worse. I had convinced the Praire brothers to get me a set of China that Count Cortier will ship in three days. They dutifully took it and at the process, they were seized by a guard that I also sent there. The Prairie were killed and Count Cortier had Lord Besmonde as suspect. If things goes well, they will be each other’s demise.