Miranda
Holy mountain man. Peel me off the face of the moon, because I’m still up there, a limp dishrag of floaty goodness. Pleasure still reverberates everywhere, but especially between my legs, my lady parts lit up and doing the Charleston to celebrate the glory of my first decent orgasm.
Ever.
I don’t even have much luck m**********g.
But Caleb played my body like a musician making love to his instrument.
He carries me into his bedroom and drops me onto a giant iron four-post bed. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, and I hear him running the sink in the bathroom, probably washing his hands.
A giddy excitement builds in my core as I realize there might be more to come. After all, he hasn’t been satisfied yet. Will he want me to suck him off?
It’s generally my least favorite thing t
