Michael settles between my thighs, kissing my neck, hands running over my face.
“And yet, here we are?" I ask.
He raises himself on an elbow, looking down at me, his lips pressed together, and gives a small nod of acknowledgement. “And yet, here we are..." He stoops to kiss me.
“Michael, if what I feel for you isn´t love, I don´t have a label for it."
He raises himself again, his brilliantly blue eyes gazing into mine, soft, semi-lidded. He strokes my face. “That´ll do." And he bends to kiss me, opening his mouth over mine.
My p***y responds to him, running warm to his touch, and as he presses himself inside me, I welcome him in. With a series of short, gasping breaths, I arch, raising my hips to meet him. He thrusts forwards slowly, in slow strokes, easing in, coating himself in my
