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Drake, that is!
The way he's fucking me!
It must be the way I love him or the fact that we've been apart for so long that makes this sex so fucking amazing!
Wait a minute.
Love him?
Apart for so long?
I spent less than two weeks with him, and we've been gone for only three months and...
I mean, sure, the sex is good enough that I’m all discombobulated but love? Really? I mean, I’m behaving like we’ve been together forever and then parted. What the hell?
I think it might be true, though. I think Idolove him. Otherwise, how could our separation be so damned devasting to me? I'm in love. Who knew? And while I'm at it, who knew I could be so happy to have a guy fucking me doggy style on my bed?
"Fuck me, Drake. Fuck me!" I'm not usually this vocal during sex. I can't really give you a reason for my sudden gregariousness now. The words just come out of me. Right now, they come out like lightning, like I have don’t have any control over them.
The reason for that is simple. I don't. I actually don’t have any control over them.
I'm just a girl who's experienced a guy she's in love with and missed him for too long.
I'm just a girl who's filled with an incredible joy she's never felt before.
And I'm just a girl whose mind has been blown away by this man's cock.
Somehow, I can't imagine living without him. I mean, look at me!
I'm having the time of my life with my love, and my love is fucking me. I'm on the covers of my bed, on top of my comforter, and Drake is on fucking me so damned profoundly that his cock is just wrecking my pussy. Hell, he’s wrecking my whole body!
Why in the world did I delay all this by leaving Alaska? Why did I go through the damned separation in the first place? I moan and push myself back to meet his thrusts, but the truth is, this is his show, not mine.
Drake has control of me. I'm just his plaything. I'm just his fuck toy. He's in charge of me. I'm helpless. I'm his. I've surrendered to him, trusted him with my body; and I'm just here to enjoy his cock.
I'm just one lucky girl.
I moan loudly and wiggle my ass. I hear him kind of growl, low in his throat, a sound that's so damned erotic, so damned filled with desire, and so powerful it makes me scream. "Yes! Yes, Drake!"
I move wildly now. I wiggle my ass and I also slam myself back against his thrusts. "Yes! Yes!"
And then the orgasm hits and I'm overwhelmed, completely overwhelmed in ways I can't even understand. It's powerful and profound and it's... I can't describe the emotion. All I can say is that it feels like everything is right in the world again.
When he cums, my pussy moves instinctively over him, working busily to make him cum as hard as possible, and each twitch of his cock is like a victory for me. Knowing that I can make him cum like this makes me feel like a superwoman.
God, I love him so much.
We lay there, me gasping and releasing soft little cries with every single movement as each movement sent little shocks of pleasure through me to remind me of the power of the orgasms I’ve just had, him sighing and sliding his hands softly up and down my body, his touch warm and tingly and powerful.
God, he feels so good. It just doesn’t make sense. It’s like he’s not a man but some supernatural creature that can affect me in ways no mortal human could. It’s like he’s some mythical being who has the power to make me experience more pleasure than I can even quantify. It’s like…
Nothing else. That’s what it’s like. It’s like nothing else, and if I do nothing else for the rest of my life but shiver on his cock, I will consider it a life well spent.
“You said there was a reason you needed to talk to me,” he says.
And just like that, reality comes crashing back down. I can’t just spend the rest of my life fucking Drake. That wouldn’t be a life well spent because the short portion of my life I’ve already spent wrapped around Drake’s cock has put a baby inside me, a baby I have to raise, a baby that Drake has traveled thousands of miles to hear me tell him about.
A baby that might make him rethink the idea of being with me.
