She was a receptacle for me, a cum receptacle. She did the work for me so I didn't have to use my hand to jack off. Every Friday night, every Saturday...night, and one time on a Sunday afternoon, we managed to meet somewhere to jump each other's bones. I ate her out, she gave me head, I fucked her or she fucked me. But there was no feeling of affection there, no inclinations of romantic attachment, no murmurs of love afterward from me. Animal instinct took over as soon as I felt her tits, or she. She knew how I felt about her, how much I adored her. My eyes were drawn to them like a moth to a flame as she dropped her bra, exposing her soft breasts.Smiling as she advanced, slowly, I reached out to her, but she pushed my hands away. I looked down at her face; it glowed softly in the dim light of the bedroom. I wanted her so much I ached. She leant forward, the slightest brush of her lips against mine.I was lost, lost in her eyes, she controlled the moment and I trusted her totally. The. More

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