Though he was here, he wasn’t with her, and while still bouncing on his penis, she opened her eyes and let their gazes join. The very second she saw the love in his eyes she yelped out at orgasm. The arrangement of his features was foreign, because the love on his face was more than a smile. The torture of that love, and his powerlessness to prevent her pain, made fresh moisture escape from Flick’s eyes, but she didn’t let it deter or impede her.
