I want him to cover me in warm oil, taking his time with his hands. His hands gliding down my waist, to my thighs, teasing my mound, and back up again. My body draped over him, back pressed against his chest, so small compared to the mountain that he is. I dance in his hands, my song made of moans and sighs. Just as I feel myself about to drift off, I can feel him inside of me. Filling me to every inch. He lays me down on the bed, my face pressed against the sheets. He's forceful but not too rough. There's power in every thrust, he takes his time. I can feel him inside of me and his hands on my hips, and that's it. Everything else feels like it's floating. The moans get louder. I can feel it coming from deep inside of me. That white hot flame growing and growing. He leans over me, lips to me ear. He wants me, he says that I feel amazing, that I smell like butter and honey. His words while sweet, melt and become incomprehensible. I'm so close. My brain can't focu...
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