She comes. I kiss her. We kiss our way through the house, all the way to bed. Clothes are ripped offand shed. Joy gets on top of me, riding me for the first time, totally into it.
Eyes blazing, she demands, “Kiss me.”
And I do, as she groans, shivers, and shakes with it, still managing to groan out, “More.”
That’s my girl. My queen.
I give her more. I give her more from behind, slapping her ass. I give her more from the side, with ourlegs entwined. I give her more so much I can’t take it anymore. I lose it, blasting inside of her.
Afterwards, we’re in each other’s arms, Joy’s face nuzzled into my chest, her expression invisible.“That was messed up.”
She wants to talk about what happened, I know. I can sense the questions churning in her. But I don’tknow how to explain things yet. How
