We fucked in my living room. I have carpet burns on my shins now. It was exciting, but it a shame he's not better at it. With him, I enjoy the emotion and the passion behind the act, but the act itself is never fulfilling for me. But he enjoys himself, and I enjoy that he does.
Evidently I must have some sort of feeling for him, or I wouldn't still persist with the mediocre sex. I like what comes after. When he raps his strong arm around me, pulls me close into his chest and kisses my forehead.
If I get any busier I may have to hire a PA.
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