“Winnie,” he says, his eyes locked to mine, silently warning me. But I don’t care. I want this. I want it more than anything. I don’t know how to explain it. I have his zipper down and his pulsing erection in my hands within a second. His eyes hold mine as I align the head of his cock with my engorged pussy lips, and the pulsing in my clit intensifies as I stare up at him. “We can’t go back,” he says, giving me a chance to pull away. But I don’t want to leave this room without knowing what it feels like to have a man like Quincey Parker between my thighs, throbbing and pulsing inside of me. I
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