But nothing could have been farther from the truth.I was in bliss. My pussy hole was gaping, clenching over and over at thecock that wasn`t it anymor.... As if somehow it could magically be filledagain.My man was breathing as if he`d just run a marathon. His face was animpressionist painting by Monet, swirls of moving emotion, shades ofpleasure ebbing and flowing.My cum was all over me, rolling off the curves of my belly and body,finding their way by gravity to the sheets under us.My face was. Everyday I used to see her running, jumping, smiling. I don’t know why it made me so happy, although, I never thought of love about it at all. I loved to stare at her from afar, but I could never look at her whenever I tried to see her closed. There was something in her face that used to dazzle my eyes like a burning sun. Within a few days I realized, I’ve already been addicted with it when I saw that, the day I could not see her, I could not do anything right. She was three year’s junior to. More

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