I move my hips to match Victor, meeting him stroke for stroke. His breath comes fast, his back curled so that he can raise his hips higher, get further inside of me. I’m gasping now, gasping for air, gasping for release. I want more of him as he pounds into me, the rhythm of him carrying my passion forward.
Each one of his movements inside of me brings me closer to my breaking point.
I don’t let myself think about it – think about what we’re doing – what it could mean –
Instead, my legs spread wider, letting him pulsing deeper into the center of me, driving away those thoughts. My nails digging into the flesh of his back, urging him faster, harder.
I only care about the growing, trembling feeling between my legs. My whole body is suffused with it, with the need to have him, to be
