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“Is this happening? Are you sure?” Emma asked. “Wait. Am I sure? I’m not sure.”
“I’m sure. I want you on video in between visits, showing me this wet pussy so I can fuck my fist when I can’t be with you.”
Emma frowned at him. “That’s called a long-distance relationship, Logan.”
Nope.
No, it wasn’t.
Was it?
“No. It’s called ‘being addicted to fucking you,’” he growled. “When we’ve both had our fill, we will end it.”
Emma shook her head.
“Tell me you don’t want my cock again,” Logan demanded.
“Is this an exclusive thing, or are we fucking other people?” Emma asked.
“The hell you are.” Logan frowned. “No. Just us.”
Fuck.
He dropped his head for a moment and then lifted it. “That’s a fucking relationship, isn’t it?”
Emma laughed at him and nodded.
Logan flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, moaning.
Emma climbed on his chest and kissed his lips, running her hand over his cock.
“I do want more of this beautiful cock. But we can’t commit to anything. You can see other women, and I can see other men.”
His cock thickened, and he ground his teeth.
Then, as she slid down his body and took him down her throat, Logan tried to formulate a way to have her all to himself and yet not find them tied into a relationship.
And failed.
