Danny sat on the edge of the sofa and I leaned over and began to stroke his penis. Slowly he told me, hold it touch it, lick it, just don't rush. Then Danny made a loud noise and told me to take him, he kept his hands in my hair as I moved up and down his long shaft. With each stoke I tried relaxing more and taking him deeper on each thrust. I heard noises, but Danny held me to him as he moaned louder and began moving with me. Danny's hands left my head at about the same instant I felt hands on my ass, quickly sliding down the cheek and a finger sliding quickly into my pussy. I pulled back, looked around as the finger in pussy gripped me tighter. A cock hung inches from my face and I adjusted to take in the room. Then I saw the six men who had been with Danny earlier, they were either naked or moving toward it. more ...
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I know that he gives me everything he has, and loves me truly. When he pushes himself deep inside of me, I feel almost nothing. Yes, I may cum, but does that mean that I am truly enjoying our act of so-called 'love.' Or, does it mean that my body is enjoying a warm hand caressing it for once in its semi-short existence, but has yearned to be held for what seems like such a great while? Am I crazy? Or do I know what I do not want? Does he love me? Or my body? Or does his body love my body? When we are thrusting our sexes into and against each other it feels so wonderful, yet so empty and fake. It hurts when he gets out of me. It burns. He holds onto me after. Maybe I do love him. Maybe that is why we were brought together in the first place. Or maybe I need to learn to stop asking why. Love is love. Nothing more. I do love him. With every bit of my heart and soul do I love him. more ...