It was the one about the babysitter, earning extra cash by giving the father a blowjob as he drove her home. I sat back against my headboard, thinking as I recovered—I rolled out of bed and dropped to the floor, doing a quick twenty push-ups to make my chest and biceps pop. She’d labelled it as fiction, not diary or true story, but it was just so visceral, so real seeming, I could easily believe it to be true. But that was where I stopped, leaving myself straining and eager, as I re-read her first story and wrote out the feedback she’d asked for. I was hooked from that moment on, and I quickly became much more familiar with the site. But as long as it was only ever a fantasy, where was the harm? Some pictures I found online, others I snapped for myself by taking screenshots from my favourite scenes. I went back to reading just as soon as I was done, and by the time I finished I was shockingly hard as a rock once more! Success! She was incredible! I banged one out that morning before getting into the shower, the same as I normally did, but from almost the moment I’d finished cumming I was able to think of little else but her. but I went into
