Michael
It felt like a dream. But fortunately for me it wasn’t .
It was real, everything was, the memory of us in the backseat of my car, the wild s*x, her warm body pressed against mine, and the way she kept riding me like her life depended on it, it was all real.
“Sweet Betty,” I muttered under my breath, "Oh how I love to experience s*x with her again.”
But it was more than s*x to me, it was electric and fascinating.
No woman had ever ridden me the way she did: she was confident, experienced ,it was as if she knew how to work around my screws, she knew the right angle to position in, it was all too overwhelming, I had to c*m sooner,
I could tell she was disappointed, after all ,she barely spoke to me after the s*x, she just wanted me to take her home.
Was I even that bad?
No,
