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His fingers twisted tighter in my hair. He even seemed to scoot down further, moving toward me.
Then he was rolling me onto my back. Climbing on top of me, his hands in my hair.
Each pass had his fingers moving down further until he slipped two between us along his cock and stroked through my pussy from behind.
I was there for you, if only as a shoulder to lean on.
For me. Only when I had nothing left in me and was hunched on my hands and knees on the floor did he step forward.
Driving me even further up to the pinnacle but not letting me drop in a perfectly executed game of cat and mouse.
" "You'd cry, too, if it was Christmas and you were missing out on a turkey dinner the way you'd always had it.