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His fingertips found the sensitive, shorn outline of his heart. He traced it gently with his fingers which made me writhe against him. Feeling his aro...sal against my buttox, I wanted to redeem myself. I wanted to worship him and give him pleasure. But I thought, I knew better, he wanted my submission more than he wanted my attention. He slipped his finger into my wetness and traced the heart with my own nectar, he laid me back on the bed, and straddled my knees. He leaned down over my face. He. It started to rain again. Loud enough for us to hear it thrum on the roof. ‘I was talking to my mom the other day. She reminded me of when we had this really crazy December storm when I was around nine.’ He talked softly, reminiscing on that long ago winter. He told other stories about growing up. About his family, his terrible cousin Danny that had thrown a rock at him and cut his head open. He had to get five stitches on that day. About his favorite dog, Dunder and how she used to sleep with. More

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