I slid one hand to his balls and massaged them, while I stroked the thick velvet warmth of him. Mine to call on, mine to use, mine to reward. We screamed, and writhed, and I could not control it. His pants fluttered against me.
You haven't even looked at the vic completely, and already you say it can't be your lover boy. I don't know if he heard me or figured out on his own that he was distracting me, but he stopped. He'd made it sound like he borrowed my favorite coat, or book, and now he'd give it back, but a coat doesn't want to come back to you, a book doesn't care who reads it. I pressed down enough that she had to finally look up at me.
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