To always be the object of desire which never received any physical pleasure of her own. To always be pleasant. To never feel lonely, jealous, afraid,...or bitter. To always make his lunch. To always make his dinner. To always kiss him goodnight even after he’d already rolled off my prone body and began to snore. To always, always, be. I visited therapists and even spent some time in a mental hospital, trying to fix myself. Trying to get better for him. To be worthy of him. To be good enough. I. I move myself a bit forward, your legs are wide open, you close them around my back, you put your feet together behind me and push me in, deeper inside of you, and with every thrust I feel the deepness of your pussy, warm, wet, and amazing. You keep throwing yourself at me; I am trapped between your legs. I love being there, I move even forward so I can put my mouth on top of yours, my hands are free so I slide one under your head, holding the back of your neck and pushing towards me, we open. More

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