“More,” I whimper as he thrusts. This time I meet his hips, and he grinds into me, giving me that sweet friction that makes my toes curl. Our thrusts continue to meet, and when our lips aren’t connected, our eyes are. The momentum increases, and we’re suddenly crashing into each other. Greedy. Needy. Craving more as if we can’t get enough. Skin slapping, flesh pounding, and desire building, he hisses and grunts as I moan and whimper. “I’m gonna come so fucking hard for you,” he pants as he kneads my breast. “Give me the same, babe. Come for me.” Something about that request, demand, plea does
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