I saw a couple of men approach Paul and chat for a few seconds. After long minutes, after our ragged breathing returned to normal as we lay quietly together and after we reminded each other of how much we loved each other, my mind drifted back to reality and I laughed as I pointed out to Paul how lucky we were that we had the house to ourselves. Finally, all restraint gone, I guided Paul’s cock to my opening and whispered against his neck “now,” rewarded by his hips’ immediate push as he slipped easily into me, his full length sliding into my hot, wet vagina, my vaginal muscles gripping him, holding him, helping him as he reached his full depth, as I felt the tip of his cock press my cervix and his sac rest against my skin. Who needs a taboo like incest when profane talk works like this? The memories, the sensations of my climaxes so fresh in my mind I wondered: how was that different from last week? I had never felt him that hard. The gentle touch and caress of his soft hands, the feel of a tongue and lips on my nipples for the first time in my young life sent shocks of pleasure through my body that were so profound that they were permanently burned
