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she saws her legs together like a cricket calling for its mate.
LOL.
“I figured you’re the type of guy who buys condoms on his way to a family get together.”
“If I lift your dress, I bet I’ll find the wettest cunt in Oklahoma.”
“How the fuck are you the sperm that won?” “I can explain it to you, but I can’t understand it for you.”
“I’ll take the rope over your wandering hands.” By the end of this, she’ll beg for both.
“And lesbians. They don’t eat meat.”
Wild and molten, wet and volatile, her fight is beautiful, but her surrender is goddamn exquisite.
“You’re where you’re supposed to be, where you belong.” “I own nothing.” “You own me.”
“Take your space, your time, whatever you need. But I won’t let you take forever. That belongs to me. Your forever is mine.”
A hard fuck, a vanilla tumble, a red welt, a tender kiss—I love her in all the colors and levels of intensity, and she lets me. I’m a lucky son of a bitch.
