“More—there—practice—good fucking,” she gasps as I rock into her.
“I’m—best—student—ever,” I gasp back.
I’m not wild in bed.
Not usually.
But I feel completely out of control and absolutely as I should be while I slam into her over and over, deeper and harder, straining to hold myself back so I can live here, in her pussy, in this bed, in anonymity but where I’m welcome.
Where she’s suddenly arching her back and tightening her legs around my hips, her pussy clenching around my cock so hard that my last ounce of control slips away.
“Oliver, I’m—oh my god,” she gasps.
Yeah.
Hellyeah.
She’s coming, her strong legs holding me tight, deep inside her, my eyes crossing while I come too, harder and faster and more out of control than I’ve ever come in my life.
My cock jerks inside her, coming and still needing to be deeper.
Can’t stop.
Can’t end.
Can’t stop.
I strain into my release, into her, groaning and grabbing the sheets on either side of her in my fists.
“Daph—”
I cut myself off.
Can’t talk through catching my breath.
Through the tremors in my legs and ass.
Through the overwhelming mix of emotions crashing together in my chest.
Becauseshiiiiiiit.
We did that.
And it was— I swallow.
Good.
Betterthan good.
Fucking fantastic. Life-altering. Reality-shattering.
Perfect.
Is it Daphne?
Or is it freedom?
Or am I feeling the freedom to make a massive, massive,massivemistake with Daphne and realizing freedom still comes with consequences?
