Not real memories. Just luke-warm breezes of artificially remembered happiness. They were long gone feelings of being well... well... being... Then th...re was the voice.It was a throaty female voice. It seemed to use words, even sentences. But they were like a foreign language to him. Like when you can't know where one word ends and a new one begins.Yet, he knew their meaning. As he knew the meaning of what he saw. The words and the pictures seemed glued to his soul. Or even better: grafted on. He leaned over and whispered ‘you are so wet. I want to make you cum right here’. I am not one to disappoint, so I came. That instant. I gushed. I do that sometimes and I was soaked. And I didn’t care. I think I may have even let out a little moan.I was still so wound up! He kept teasing my clit and slipping his fingers inside of me, working extra hard at it when the movie would get loud. By now I also had my hand firmly wrapped around his rock hard cock. I had been gently and subtly stroking. More

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