Page 38 of Selling Her Virtue

And then I seize my moment, and pull him closer, and whisper, “Just one? You losing your touch?”

He slams into me so hard I see stars.

“Does it feel like I’m losing my touch?”

I don’t answer.

I can’t.

I’m already coming and forming words isn’t possible.

Besides, having my husband still fuck me like I’m his half-million-dollar virgin prize is the best feeling in the world.

And I hope it never ends.

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