I picture every single thing I said. I envision shoving her legs back, seeing her knees near her face as I thrust deep, giving her every hard inch, every hot drop. I see us on Sunday morning, lazy and tired, on our sides, my cock feeding her pleasure one inch at a time. I see her belly swollen, tits full, a baby on one hip, another at her feet. Then I don’t just see her, but instead, us. Our life. My hair has more silver. Her crow’s feet are soft. Time has carried us forward, age has found us, and I spend my days and nights eating my favorite meal, losing myself in my perfect, still young
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