The minute I pull out of Presley, I still.
Her fingers thread through my hair with a sensual touch because I stupidly made love to her.
“I’m going to clean up.” I climb out of bed and shut the bathroom door behind me.
After I wipe off my d**k, I stare at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t have f****d her on the counter? Doggie style over the love seat? Reverse cowgirl it? I had to do missionary and stare into her eyes the whole time. Her skin felt like silk. I close my eyes, remembering how good she felt under me.
Don’t flip out. Be present. This isn’t anything. So what? You care for her. Of course the s*x can be slow with longing looks and savored tastes. It’s all good.
I walk out with a washcloth and sit on the edge of the bed, handing it to her. She puts it between her legs and disap
