“I love you, Quinci,” he whispered in my ear. There it was. He didn’t say, Princess, I love you. He said, Quinci. “I love you, Quinci.” That was real. That was outside of the expectations that he’d set…we’d both set. Those words were the reason that I’d cried while he made love to me. Those words were the reason I let him work himself in my asshole. Anal sex while high, tipsy, and emotionally high was the best journey I could’ve ever taken my body on. When he was done filling my ass with his cum, he said, “Please, don’t leave me.”
