“I want to fuck you,” he grates against my femininity. Lapping, lapping.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Please.” Any way to feel closer to him. My boyfriend. My savior.

“No, you can’t. You can’t.” He seems to be arguing with himself. Then to me, he says, “I’m saving such a fat nut for you, honey. It’s going to look like someone spilled a gallon of milk on this virgin pussy when I finally get into it.”

With that, he closes his lips around this place, this spot he’s been licking ...