66
Peter
Breathing heavily, I reluctantly withdraw from Sara’s tight, slick p***y and carefully lower her to her feet. She looks just as overwhelmed as I feel, and a sharp pinch of regret chases away the warm afterglow.
I was too rough with her.
Again, I was too f*****g rough with her.
I know she likes it that way now, but she’s pregnant.
Traumatized and pregnant.
What the f**k was I thinking, losing control like that? I need to be coddling her, keeping her rested and relaxed, not f*****g her brains out against the fridge like some out-of-control animal.
She sways on her feet as I release her and step back, and I grip her arm, steadying her as she reaches for a paper towel to mop at the wetness between her legs.
“Ptichka… Are you okay?”
She grins, throwing the balled-up towel in
