Marissa
Gio gets up and returns with a washcloth, which he uses to clean me. Then he brings me a glass of water. “You okay, angel?”
I nod and drink deeply before handing him the glass back. He’s in all his n***d, manly glory. Broad, buff shoulders, hairy chest, thighs like tree trunks. His five o’clock shadow gives him a rugged look.
“Climb under the covers, I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
“‘Kay.” I’m feeling very much like a bad girl. A little ashamed. A little punished. A lot used. Definitely owned.
My anus pulses, raw and sore from the activity, but the rest of my body is replete with relaxation and the feel-good hormones that go with two orgasms in one night.
I crawl under the covers, surprised when Gio waits to pull them up and kiss my temple. The sweetness of it makes my heart
